


About The Honor Among Thieves

by monohighbrid



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Heist, Mentions of suicide and child death, Mildly Dubious Consent, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Savior-centric, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monohighbrid/pseuds/monohighbrid
Summary: 100 million dollars, one last coup, a job neither Negan nor Simon can resist. They have a well-honed crew and years of experience after all, so this should be a milk run, right? But maybe they shouldn't have brought the new girl on board, distracting them both. When feelings start to meddle with their heads it doesn't just put the job at risk, but 20 years of friendship. But otherwise, what can go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, my muse made me do it. With a gun to my head. I blame HBO. This is what's happening when I actually sit down to work on my Westworld story. Writing Westworld is hard. 
> 
> I will update this irregularly. 
> 
> And yes... there will be an OC because of course there will be an OC. Is there any other way to write a story?

Negan dropped on a barstool with a sigh and opened his leather jacket. The redhead barmaid behind the counter came over with a smirk.

“What can I do for you today, handsome?” she said leaning in a little. Always such a tease.

“You can finally agree that I take you out,” he said with a grin. Frankie chuckled before she pushed herself away from the counter and retrieved a whiskey glass from under it.

“You are not giving up, are you?”

“One of these days you will say yes. And then you will regret that you didn’t fucking say yes earlier,” he observed Frankie’s ass with a thoughtful frown when the girl turned around and reached for the Whiskey. He should have asked for low-shelf this time. She looked over her shoulder.

“Yeah? Maybe one day I will. When you are not married anymore,” Negan smacked his lips.

“Aw doll, Luci and I have an open relationship. Don’t worry about that,” she poured him his drink and pushed it over. Simon came through the kitchen door and made a beeline for the register. HIs only greeting for Negan was a short nod. Negan’s eyes went back to Frankie who smiled at him.  

“Are you sure? It didn’t look like that from where I was standing when she came in here threatening to beat Tanya up.”

“That was a misunderstanding,” Negan deadpanned. Frankie chuckled.

“I bet,” she said. Simon scoffed. He was currently putting cash into a pouch.

“Stop flirting unless you get a tip out of it. So save it for customers who actually pay for their drinks,” he sad. Then he pushed the cash drawer shut and turned around. “And why are there so many one-dollar bills with glitter on ‘em in here? You let those strippers from the other side of the street pay with their day’s profits again?” he asked seriously. Frankie just shrugged, while Negan chuckled in his drink.

“It was the day shift. Have you seen those women? You don’t wanna mess with them,” she said and wandered off to take care of a group of mostly drunk college kids in the back. Simon looked after her.

“That money was in someone’s underwear. I hope you are actually aware of that,” he called after her and she just flipped him off. With a shake of his head, he threw the purse on the counter. “That girl, I tells ya. What are you up to? Haven’t seen you in a while. I started to get worried,” Negan and Simon went way back. They knew each other for over twenty years. When they first met Simon was just a hot-headed greenhorn with anger management issues and Negan the town’s resident asshole with a too big ego and an itch for trouble. They had beaten the shit out of each other for no reason other than Negan making fun of Simon’s bike. They got kicked out of the very roadhouse they were currently in, went for a drink someplace else, and that was it. Instant best friends.

“Just admit you fucking missed me,” Negan said and emptied his drink. He looked at Simon expectantly until the other man rolled his eyes and refilled his glass.

“Yeah, I mostly missed someone drinking away my best product without reimbursing me in any way for it,” Negan grinned.

“Aw, don’t be like that. I own 25 percent of that place, so technically I own 25 percent of that bottle,” he smirked.

“The worst is that I believe that you think that is actually how this works,” the door opened and both men looked over. It was a slow night. A woman with dark curls in blue jeans and a flattering top just walked in and looked around. She was young, maybe a bit too young to be in a bar, but she had been here a couple of nights already and Frankie had checked her ID. Maybe it was a fake one, but Simon didn’t really care. He had done his duty and she was a paying customer. So far she usually had sat in a booth in the back, always drinking the same, an Old Fashioned with an extra cherry, and read something on her phone. This time she walked to the bar, threw her jacket on the counter, and sat on the empty stool next to Negan. There was a moment when both men just stared at her. Negan because he already looked for an angle to flirt his way into her pants, and Simon because he hadn’t expected her to sit on the bar. After a short look at Negan, she tilted her head.

“Whom do I have to shoot to get service?” she said with a small smile. Simon took a long breath.

“That would be me,” he said. “The usual I assume,” her smile got a bit wider.

“You remember what I drank? That is kind of impressive,” Simon only scoffed and pulled out a new glass.

“It’s not. Not many people order cocktails. Most of the customers would drink straight from the bottle if I would let them,” he let a sugar cube fall into the glass.

“In all fairness, all you are doing is pouring whiskey over some sugar. That ain’t exactly high-end bartending,” Negan said. Simon grinned at him.

“Hey, I also add some orange rind and a cocktail cherry. You need a license to do that,” he said and did just that. With a smug smile, he put the drink in front of her. Then he let a second cherry drop into the glass. “And one extra, as requested,” Negan rolled his eyes because that was Simon’s flirty smile. And by the way she smiled back, the asshole probably had a chance. Negan sighed. Win some lose some, right? Simon put both hands on the counter, and deliberately flexed this annoyingly muscular biceps.

“So,” he started. “What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking? I’m Simon and since he will use any chance he can get to chime in this fine gentleman is Negan. He lives on that very stool.”

“Very funny,” Negan said around his glass before he put it down and turned to her. She looked between him and Simon.

“What kind of name is Negan?” she finally asked. Negan heard that a lot.

“It’s Welsh,” he said matter-of-factly, and like this was true.

“He made that up. His mother was a hippie,” Frankie said in passing. Negan glared at her a little, but she just smirked at him while she tabbed two beers. “Oh, and when he tells you that he used to be a professional baseball player then yes, this is actually true, but he always forgets the part where he got kicked out of the league for beating up his coach. And he’s married,” Negan lifted both hands.

“Seriously Frankie?” she shrugged and walked away with the beverages. “Fire her,” Negan said to Simon who chuckled.

“Absolutely not,” he turned back to the girl. “So?”

“So what?”

“Your name?”

“Oh right. It’s Lara,” she said.

“Well, Lara, what brings you in here the fourth night in a row,” Simon now asked her, and Negan frowned. That was some lame pick-up line. By the little amused smile around Lara’s lips, she thought that, too. She leaned forward a little.

“A taxi,” was her nearly conspiratorially whispered answer. Simon needed a second or two, then he had to laugh.

“I heard it myself. Not my smoothest move.”

“And you started off so well,” she smirked.

“I usually lead with the part where I point out that I own this place,” he said solemnly. Now she looked impressed. It was played, clearly, but at least she seemed to have fun.

“Now that’s a real panty dropper,” Simon nodded.

“Gets them every time. Line, hook and sinker,” he stated. Lara chuckled and fidgeted a bit with her glass.

“Well then a shame you missed that opportunity,” she said and looked Simon in the eyes. He just looked back. Negan could feel the sexual tension build and he suddenly had the feeling he shouldn’t be here. And then Simon ruined it.

“How old are you?” the question was like a record scratch. She tilted her head bemused.

“I have to admit I did not see that coming,” Simon just sighed.

“Look, I’m being blunt here, but I don’t want to get myself into trouble. Just tell me you are over 18, or even better, over 21 because otherwise, it was illegal I even served you a drink,” instead of an answer she got up grabbing her jacket.

“Well in that case,” she emptied the Old Fashioned. “It would have been legal to fuck me, but I guess I am not paying for the drink you weren’t allowed to serve me,” she put the glass down. “Negan,” she said as a goodbye and walked out of the bar. Simon stared after her. With a sigh, he picked up the glass.

“Well, that escalated fucking quickly,” Negan stated. Simon glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“I’m kinda glad I witnessed that,” he went on gloatingly. “I mean you _really_ ruined the mood. Hot damn, it was like watching a train wreck. You nearly had her, but you just had to ask that question, right?” Simon groaned onto the ceiling. “Got a bloody nose and some blue balls with this one, hu? And she totally stole your cash,” Negan tagged along. Simon’s eyes fell on the spot of the counter were the cash pouch just lay.

“Son of a,” he hurried out of the bar after her but came back not a minute later. “You couldn’t have fucking told me that earlier. She’s long gone,” Negan shrugged.

“Why would I? It was a professional courtesy. She did it elegantly. I can respect that. Probably only was here the last couple of days to get a hang on your routine. So maybe you never had a chance after all,” Simon took a long breath.

“Professional courtesy. Don’t give me that crap. I make my living with that bar.”

“Now we both know that ain’t true. Besides, you can take to lose half a week night’s earnings. You just pissed that she managed to hustle you of all people,” Simon frowned.

“Did you see her do it?”

“The actual act? No,” he said. A thoughtful expression made its way across Simon’s face.

“I’m gonna go after her,” he stated. Negan scoffed.

“Because of three thousand in stripper money? Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“I don’t give a shit about the money. What she just did took balls and skills and neither of us noticed anything,” Negan’s eyebrows knitted together.

“You wanna recruit her? Who are you now, fucking Fagin?” Simon looked confused.

“Did you just make an Oliver Twist reference?”

“What, I read. That’s a bad idea. You don’t know the first thing about her. Lara probably isn’t even her name. And she might just got lucky. You were distracted by a pretty face. I know I fucking was. And we never work with strangers, you made that stupid rule. Besides we don’t even have a job in prospect,” Simon smacked his lips.

“Well,” he started.

“What? Why am I hearing just now from that? What the fuck is it?”

“It’s still in limbo, haven’t really thought it through yet. But it’s a big one,” Negan squinted his eyes.

“How big?”

“15 million,” Negan scoffed.

“Split by 5? That’s not enough to risk our little operation by dragging a sixth one into it, and a fucking stranger on that.”

“For each of us. Probably more,” Negan slowly put his glass down and looked at Simon sternly.

“You ain’t planning on stealing from the fucking mob, are you?”

“Even worse. I am planning to steal from the US military. And it’s a six-man job.”


	2. Chapter 2

Simon leaned against a tree and took a bite out of the pie he just purchased. Even if he would have to leave here empty handed it alone would have been worth it to make his way to the biweekly farmer’s market. It was a good hunting ground for pick-pockets since it was cash only, so the wads of the general population were a little fuller than usual. That’s why there was a rather strong police presence, considering, and Simon had to admit, the girl was bold. While she had made an effort to appear older in his bar she now definitely aimed for younger and she could pull off the teen, no doubt about it, with her oversized, vintage band shirt, her shorts, and her unmade biker boots. And Simon’s assessment had been right, she had skills. The first two times the purses changed their owner fast enough he barely seen her do it. He threw the wrapping of the pie into a garbage bin after he cleaned his fingers with the complementary napkin and sauntered after her. His phone rang. It was Wade.

“What can I do for you,” he asked cheerfully. The line stayed silent for a second or two.

“We need to talk,” Wade said gravely. Uncharacteristically gravely. Simon had expected a call like that, although he had expected Arat to be the one, and that it would start with a rant.

“About what?”

“You know about what. What are you doing?” Simon pretended to be interested in a dairy display while he eyed over to her from under the peak of his ballcap. She just stole a phone and a wallet from an elderly couple that looked like they went for long walks with their cat in the evenings. That girl had a very flexible moral compass.

“Can you be a little bit more specific?”

“The job we don’t know anything about. You didn’t even tell Negan. You going after some girl for no apparent reason. She’s a thief, so what, you are a thief, Negan’s a thief, we don’t need more thieves. We don’t need anyone new for that matter. We don’t work with strangers, period,” Simon sighed. First, it was stupid to have that conversation on the phone, although Simon doubted that they were the center of any law enforcement interest at the moment. But maybe just now some CIA analyst jumped up in a dark room in a basement in Langley making an air fist yelling I finally got something. Second, Wade wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t know the whole picture and besides

“You were a stranger once, and we took our chances with you,” there was silence on the other end of the line. “Do you trust me?” he heard Wade take a long breath.

“Strangely enough I do,” he mumbled.

“Good, then trust me on this one. I’ll explain soon enough, okay? Now I gotta go, I have work to do.”

“What are you doing?” Simon grinned.

“Got my eyes on the price, Wade.”

“Already? How did you even… you already dragged Gary into it. That fucker. I just talked to him and he was like what do I know,” Simon had to chuckle. “You know what? I hate you. I’ll go back to Florida and take over my father’s Scooba dive school. Should have done this years ago. Pray she can crack a safe, because I won’t do it anymore,” Wade ranted, and Simon’s chuckle turned into a legitimate laugh. “That ain’t funny, asshole.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. Gotta go, bye,” with that Simon hang up. Then he turned around and scanned the area. She was on her way out, probably done for now and off to a place where she could check the loot, take the money, and get rid of the wallets. He watched her hastening for the exit. She ran straight into two cops. Simon couldn’t help the almost worried frown between his eyebrows when he saw that she lost one of the wallets. This could go anywhere from here. She put on her brightest smile. The younger of the cops crouched down to retrieve it, clearly a man’s model, so Simon personally would find this suspicious as fuck, but he just weighed it shortly in his hands and handed it over to her with a stern expression. Whatever he said to her he probably gave her a short lecture about how she should keep it somewhere safe since there were thieves all around the place. She took it with an even brighter smile, brushed past the two cops and walked away, not without turning around quickly waving them off. Simon scoffed. That little vixen just pick-pocketed a police officer. With a head shake, he ambled after her. Their little journey led them down a street around a corner. Simon turned it just in time to see her disappear into a side alley. He looked around the mostly empty street and followed her.

“I wouldn’t have robbed the cop if I were you. They usually don’t carry any cash and it was just an unnecessary risk,” she froze. Then she turned around. Recognition crawled up her face. Her eyes flipped between Simon and a chain link fence that was blocking the end of the alley. She was halfway up when Simon pulled her down again. He made sure she didn’t land on her ass, but then he stepped a step away lifting both his hands calmingly. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. She scoffed.

“Yeah, then why are you here?”

“To have a little chat.”

“About?”

“Opportunity,” she nervously pulled her bag closer to her and made eye contact for a split second before she looked away again. Simon was a big guy, and he was intimidating. She tried to hide it, but he could tell that she was scared.

“Not interested,” she mumbled. He sighed.

“Come on, sweetheart. You stole at least 3000 dollars from me. You can keep ‘em, all I am asking in return is that you’ll sit down with me, somewhere very public, where a lot of people will see you and me, and hear me out.”

“No thanks,” she said and tried to go past him. He grabbed her by her forearm and gently, but determined pulled her back. Her eyes fell on his hand around her biceps, but he didn’t let her go. “How did you even find me, dude?”

“Shockingly easily,” was his only answer. “And I can do it again. You don’t really have a choice here. So don’t be fucking difficult.”

“And what if I refuse?” Simon smacked his lips.

“I can make you, one way or another. But I would appreciate you come willingly. Besides, what is it that you _can_ do, hm?” she looked him in the eyes. Then an expression crawled into her face that Simon, in a lack of better words, only would call gloating. She took a long breath.

“Help!!” a little startled by the sheer loudness of her scream Simon let her go. “Somebody please help!” he sighed annoyed and stepped back.

“Seriously?”

“Please somebody. He’s trying to kill me!!” she sure sounded like he did.

“Oi,” Simon turned around and groaned. Three guys stood in the entrance of the alley. She shot him a grin.

“That ain’t the last of it, sweetheart,” he said to her before she made a run for it. The guys had hurried closer. College kids, if Simon would have guessed. She shortly stopped at one of them.

“Please, he dragged me in here to do God knows what. You need to protect me, please,” she even managed to press out some tears. The guy pushed her behind his back and the last Simon saw of her was a smug and triumphant grin before she took to her heels. His eyes fell on the biggest of the guys, clearly the ringleader.

“You are after little girls, old man? How about you try to take on someone your size,” Simon slowly took off the ring he was wearing and put it in his pocket.

“That’s a great idea. You have someone in mind?” the guy shared a look with his buddies. “Kid, I know you think you are being the good guy here, but you really don’t want to do this,” the ringleader chuckled, actually pushed up his sleeves and walked closer. Simon sighed. “Okay, so we’re doing this.”

An hour later he walked into his bar and slowly dropped onto a stool. Frankie frowned at him, poured him a drink without saying a word before she started to put ice cubes in a dish towel. Simon mumbled a thanks when he put it on his knuckles. Gary next to him eyed him up and down.

“How does the other guy look?”

“Guy-s. They’ll live. I called an ambulance,” Simon said downing his drink. Then he reached into the side pocket of his leather jacket and threw a wallet into Gary’s lap. He had put it in a plastic bag. “Her prints are all over it. Do your thing, would you?” Gary gave him a solemn look before he put it away. Simon laboriously got up again and clapped Gary on the shoulder. In an afterthought, he walked back to the counter, reached over it and retrieved a bottle of Jack. “I’m gonna take a long, hot shower, and then I’m gonna get drunk,” he said and walked to the door that would lead him upstairs and into his apartment. “I’m getting too old for that shit.”

~

She walked up to her door with a tired sigh and tried to juggle two grocery store bags while fishing for her keys in the void that was her purse. She finally found them, and somehow managed to open the door. After she put the bags on the kitchen counter she started to pull items out. She was in the middle of storing a bunch of eggs in her fridge when she heard a soft sound from the living room. She froze and slowly turned around. Trying to make as little suspicious sounds as possible she opened a drawer and reached inside of it. Her lips turned into a fine line when her hand came back empty. The gun wasn’t there anymore. Grabbing a knife instead she slowly walked over to the living room. She turned on the light. The guy from the bar with the weird name, Negan, sat in an armchair her gun next to him on a side table. The other guy, Simon, who sported a black eye but otherwise didn’t exactly look like he just got roughed up by three dudes, leaned with his back against a wall and his arms crossed over his chest. They both smiled at her, not unfriendly.

“You try to make a run for it again, be my guest. But just so you know. Outside that building waits a friend of mine with the order to stop you by all means necessary, and believe me, she won’t hesitate to punch you in your pretty face,” Simon said. Negan raised an eyebrow.

“Aw sweetheart, don’t listen to him. He’s just a bit miffed about your stunt the other day. I, on the other hand, am fucking impressed. So,” he said and put his arms on his legs. “Jules, right?” she couldn’t help to frown that he knew her real name. “Put that knife down, have a seat. Let’s have a little chat like grownups.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jules looked to the bathroom door. You could reach the neighboring building over the fire-escape. Simon might be bluffing about the woman waiting for her outside, although she couldn’t take that risk, but she doubted that they had the roofs covered. On the other hand, they had found her twice already and they probably could do it again, and she had no hard out here. Weighing this option while Negan and Simon looked at her expectantly she made her decision. She ran against the bathroom door. With full force. The assholes had locked it.

“Fuck,” she pressed out frustrated and hit her fist against the door. She was outmanned, outgunned and outplanned here. With a defiant frown, she turned around to face Simon wearing an amused look on his face. For a second she thought he would grab her and drag her to the living room, but instead, he stepped aside and showed her over. With a very guarded expression, she dropped on a chair.

“Thanks for your cooperation,” Negan said sweetly and she could have slapped him.

“What do you want?” she couldn’t help the fear in her voice. This could end really badly for her depending on what these people wanted. Negan sighed and leaned forward.

“Relax, okay? No one’s gonna hurt you. Unless you are trying to do something stupid, so stop ogling that gun.”

“What is it that you want? Your money back? I don’t have it anymore,” Negan raised an eyebrow with an expression of a very disappointed teacher and pulled an envelope out of his pocket. He threw it on the coffee table. Jules sighed, pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest uncomfortably.

“You need to learn to hide your shit a little better. Or yourself for that matter. You can keep it. Simon is losing more on a regular basis playing poker with me,” he grinned gleefully to the man who stood somewhere behind her. “But anyhoo, I believe you asked me a question. What is it that we fucking want from you, hm? Simon told you already, offering you a job,” she scoffed.

“Yeah? And I told him already. Not interested,” now Negan put on the smile of a car dealer.

“Aw, doll. Just hear me out? It’s the offer of the century. You do that little teeny tiny, easy peasy job for us and you get something someone as young and as fucked up like you desperately needs. An out,” she glared at him.

“As fucked up as me? Who the fuck you think you are? You don’t know the first thing about me,” she snapped. Negan grinned like a child.

“Aw, thank you for saying that. I was wondering how I can wave a little fucking expositing into the conversation. Let me see, what do I know about you, Jules Kelly. It’s Irish, isn’t it? Born in Hamilton, the one in Canada,” the last bit was said condescendingly with a head tilt towards Simon. That was probably some ongoing tease between those two since Jules had heard Simon’s Calgary accent loud and clear. “Just two months shy of turning 21. Daddy was a bit of a drinker, bit of a bruiser, too, huh? Died in prison in 2006. And Mommy, wow, she was a keeper, right? Heroin and crack addict, convicted for possession of drugs with the intent to sell, driving under the influence with tiny Jules in the back seat, leaving you alone in an empty apartment for days at the time, my fucking favorite, prostitution, and I don’t even want to start to begin to think about what the interchangeable army of dead-beat boyfriends did to you. I am shocked your version of the CPS kept bringing you back to her. Although foster care didn’t do much good for you either. Because then there is you,” she wasn’t reacting much, just glaring daggers at him. “Your record reads like you tried to break one, theft, armed theft, auto theft, identity theft, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, dealing with drugs, forgery, fraud,  and that is just your juvenile record. You really amped it up. I mean you ask me these are just minor offenses, I’m not judging, but murder? That’s a capital crime. What did Mommy do to you that you fired two shots in her head?”

“Negan,” Simon said sharply behind him. Jules had frozen and stared out of the window with an empty look.

“I didn’t kill her,” she said flatly.

“Does the Ontarian police know that?” Simon asked equally flatly behind her. She turned and stared at him. Unlike Negan he looked at her rather softly, maybe even with a little bit of pity. “There’s still a warrant, will be for a long time. There is no statute of limitations for first-degree murder in Canada. You managed to lay low here, have to give you that, but this shit will come back to you sooner or later. Your prints are in the system, so is your DNA. You make one mistake and its good-bye American Dream and hello Grant Valley Institution for Woman. You were 18, they’ll charge you as an adult. And with your record and the fact that you evaded the law by fleeing into another country, no mitigating circumstances will keep you from getting life. You maybe think that’s not too bad, I can do 25 years. I will be in my forties when I get out. You never make it this far. You maybe tough, kid, but you ain’t prison tough. That isn’t hard to tell. You are going to die in there. That’s a hell of a punishment for something you didn’t even do,” she looked at him with a frown, unsure if he actually believed her that she didn’t commit matricide.

“What are you, some sort of lawyer?” she mumbled. Simon scoffed.

“No, I am a professional criminal. I know my shit, I know the consequences of my shit and to avoid said consequences to happen. What I and my lovely associate are trying to say is you are in a really fucked up position and we have the means and the ends to make it all go away,” now Jules scoffed.

“Yeah, right,” Negan grinned smugly and leaned back.

“Clean slate, a fresh start. We wipe the system from any traces of Jules Kelly and send you off your merry way with a shitload of money and a new identity in a country of your own choosing. And in return, all we are asking you is for a couple of weeks of your time and skills. One job, in and out, and you will be a brand-new person,” there was a heavy pause.

“You can do that? You don’t exactly look like you can hack yourselves in a federal server pulling shit like that off,” she asked slowly with a little pitch in her voice. Negan chuckled.

“Of course we can’t. We have a guy. Same guy that found you by the way. Although he looks like he could beat Anderson Silva in a cage match, so I guess your point is somehow valid.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Jules said flatly. Negan tsked.

“Kids these days. So, what’ll be? Aye or nay?” she wasn’t answering for a long time looking between Simon and Negan.

“What kind of job is that anyway? I pick pockets, ran a con or two, forged some ID’s and pulled off the one or other credit card fraud, but I am not a fucking cat burglar or master thief. What you even want from me?” Negan shot Simon another look, maybe a solemn one. Then he smacked his lips.

“Well first of all Simon has taken a shine to you for some reason. Don’t ask me why although I have a fucking idea,” she frowned to Simon who gave Negan a look and shook his head. “But I will be honest with you sweetheart. What we will be asking from you has a chance to blow over, to get you caught. We gonna minimize the danger, do everything we can to protect you. I know you don’t trust us, and all we have to earn your trust right now are 250 thousand up front and the 250 thousand you’ll get when the job is done,” she looked up surprised. That was a lot of money. “What we want from you is something that really falls into your skill set. We want you to steal something from a very powerful person that he keeps in his home and to access that home we want you to con yourself into somebody else’s life.”

“I’m not going to have sex with somebody,” she said quickly like a shot. Negan tilted his head, clearly irritated.

“Jesus doll, no one said something about sleeping with somebody. If it would be something simple as seducing the guy I would do it myself,” he grinned. Simon scoffed. “No, we need you to befriend his daughter, she’s in college. And admittedly, I cannot think about one person in our crew that could manage that without looking creepy as shit. Especially Simon.”

“Very funny,” Simon mumbled. She looked between them.

“That’s it? Just get friendly enough to get invited to a sleepover and then what, sneak into is study and steal that mysterious thing you want?” Simon shrugged.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And you will pay me 500000 dollars for that _and_ give me a new identity?”

“That’s the deal, yeah.”

“You guys are the ones who are fucked up. Get out of my apartment,” Negan sighed and got up. He reached into his side pocket and Jules flinched, but he pulled out a card. It was just a plain, white card with a number on it.

“You’ll change your mind you call that number. We give you three days to think this over. You let them pass and we won’t hear from you will never see us again. Word to a wise, though. That’s a fucking one-time deal so if you let it pass don’t show your pretty face around the bar ever again. Come on Simon, let’s go,” with that he waltzed out of the room and ultimately out of the apartment. Simon hung back for a second, looking into her eyes.

“Think about it,” he said seriously before he walked out, too. She stared after them for a bit then she jumped up and grabbed her gun. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that they had taken the mag and the bullets.

“Fuck,” she cursed and ran her hand through her hair.

~

In the car, Simon let out a long breath.

“How did it go?” Arat asked from the back seat.

“Oh, it went well. I think. Did you have to bring up that murder thing like that? You could have been a little bit more sensitive, you know,” he asked Negan who looked at him innocently.

“I’m sorry, have you met me? You wanna do the talking next time?”

“Maybe I should,” Negan started the car with a snigger.

“Yeah, like you didn’t enjoy hanging around in the back mysteriously with that brooding look on your face. And I think we brought some very good arguments there. So fucking relax. For the record. I still don’t like it. She gets caught she can bring us all down with her.”

“That’s a word for it,” Simon mumbled. Negan frowned at him. Simon still hadn’t told him the whole plan. Only vaguely what her role in it would be.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean,” Negan asked lowly. Simon pulled a face and smacked his lips. “Dude, you really need to tell us what the gig ensues.”

“All in due time, but I guess now is as good a time as any to bring to the table that she won’t bring us all down if she gets caught,” he said in a casual tone looking out of the window. “Nope, she will all get us killed.”


	4. Chapter 4

Negan gave Simon a beer that he took with a mumbled thanks and then he sat down next to Arat. They were in Negan’s living room, all five of them, Wade impatiently whipping with his leg while sprawled out on an armchair, Gary as usual somewhere in the back with his trademark frown in his otherwise impassive face and Arat and Negan on the couch, waiting for Simon to finally tell them the plan. The man sat on the coffee table with a tablet next to him. He peeled a bit on the label of his beer before he took a sip.

“Where’s Lucille,” he asked Negan who rubbed the back of his neck.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” everyone kind of gave the staircase a look.

“How is she?” Gary asked. Negan just shrugged.

“Good days and bad days. Today’s a good day, but she needs the rest. You wanna know about the fucking health status of my wife read her fucking blog,” he grumbled. Gary scoffed.

“I’m just being polite here. You know what that is? Politeness? At least the basic concept?”

“Alright, back off you two,” Simon interrupted what out of experience could turn in a full-fledged argument with one of them storming out. That was Gary and Negan’s thing. “So, you maybe asked yourself already what that mysterious job is about that I am keeping from you and why on earth I would go through so much length to recruit some twenty-something petty criminal.”

“Crossed my mind,” Negan said.

“Yeah, that and why I just freed 300 Grand from your assets,” Gary chimed in. Wade and Arat looked up surprised. Simon sighed.

“250 are down payment in case the girl says yes, the other 50 are to cover our…expanses,” he said. Now Negan frowned, too.

“What the fuck kind of job is that that we’ll have to pump in that kind of money. And how much fucking money do you even have?”

“You would be surprised,” Gary scoffed.

“I live economically.”

“I think the right word’s thrifty,” Gary added.

“I wonder why I didn’t tell any of you the plan sooner. Gary, do you maybe have an idea why?” Simon said sharply with a raised eyebrow.

“By all means, carry on.”

“Okay,” Simon picked up the tablet and brought up a google maps image. “Warrenton Training Center,” he said.

“You _actually_ wanna steal from the military?” Arat asked incredulously. Simon rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I do. When did I ever lie to you?” he changed the image. “This is one of four facilities on the compound, Station D, or Brandy Station. High-frequency receiver and core regional relay facility,” Simon stared into three blank faces.

“Satellites and radios,” Gary chimed helpfully from the back. Technically an oversimplification but Arat, Wade and Negan’s faces lit up in understanding. Then Negan’s frown came back.

“When this is an elaborate phone booth, why would there be lying 100 fucking mills around?” he asked with a suspicious undertone. Simon grinned smugly.

“There aren’t, not officially at least,” Simon could tell that he again lost everybody except Gary whose scowl somehow took over his whole face.

“What _is_ official is that you’ve lost your mind,” he said flatly. Wade shook his head.

“You know, isn’t it enough that you are the smartest person in the room, do you have to fucking act like it all the time?” he snapped at Gary. “What does that mean?”

“Isn’t it fucking obvious? That’s black ops money. How do you think Uncle Sam pays off the rebel leaders or the drug cartel informants or pays for the secret trip to no rain country? Writing a cheque and booking a flight with your local travel agent? That money is in no books. Simon, I get that the very idea might get you all excited and tingly, but you know what that means, right?” everyone’s eyes snapped to Simon.

“Yes, I know that.”

“Do you, though?” and back to Gary. “This is not a simple job. That money will be secured on _so many_ levels. Cameras, motion sensors, a safe, a shitload of firewalls we would need to surpass and oh, don’t forget the combat-ready soldiers whose sole purpose is to fucking guard that money.”

“Is that the reason you said we might get killed?” Arat asked slowly.

“We might get killed?!” Wade exclaimed. Simon rolled his eyes and tried to say something.

“Sure thing we will get killed, because one of you assholes will get caught and they will zero dark thirty your asses till you spill the beans who helped you and then it will be head shot city real quick.”

“You’re being overdramatic…,” Simon tried.

“Am I? How long you think you can withstand waterboarding, hm? Wade probably would break down when you throw a wet towel at him,” despite the rather heated situation Simon had to chuckle.

“No seriously. Is there a chance we will die?” the men in question asked anxiously.

“What do you think, Wade? This won’t be your average soldier, I’m talking fucking commandos here who can probably kill you 20 ways with a spork. And there is no jurisdiction there. They won’t hand you over to the authorities. They will eliminate you, and then us when they are at it.”

“I’m not gonna do it,” Wade said.

“Yeah, me neither,” Arat mumbled.

“Make it three of us,” Gary scoffed.

“Okay everybody shut the fuck up,” Negan said loudly, so everybody did. “The last time I fucking checked Simon and I still run that crew and are the ones that put food on your table and fucking money on your accounts. When did one of us _ever_ came around with a plan that’s too dangerous, hm? When Simon thinks we can fucking do it then we can fucking do it. So maybe Negative Nellie over there can shut her fucking pie hole for a minute stopping making up end of the world scenarios and fucking listen what Simon has to say, because I believe he said he has a plan and time told us again and again that his plans are fucking good.”

“Thank you,” Simon said in the awkward pause that followed Negan’s outburst.

“You better have a fucking plan and don’t make me regret what I just said,” Simon smacked his lips.

“Well,” Gary groaned.

“Aw for fucks sake.”

“It’s a backbone of a plan,” he made a pacifying gesture towards Gary who was starting again. “A very sturdy backbone. I did my research. We maybe just need to do more research,” he grinned. He pulled something up on his tablet and turned it around. “This is where the money is, safely stashed away 135 feet underground behind 12 feet of reinforced concrete. It’s a nuclear bunker, decommissioned 25 years ago,” they all studied the blue prints for a while.

“And the money does what, just fucking lie there?” Negan asked, mostly because nobody was saying anything.

“Of course not. It’s inside this old lady, Phoenix SLT Steelwater DC10K. Ain’t she a beaut?”

“Why would they bother with a 40-year-old safe?” Wade mumbled. Simon looked at him expectantly. Wade plopped his lip. “Right, no electrical parts, no keypads or chips. She’s unhackable. Huh, without the combination and the three keys you won’t get in,” he frowned deep in contemplation. “The locking mechanism, the bolts and the hinges are behind 6 inches of lined titanium alloy. I could drill it open, theoretically, but that would take hours. No,” he gnawed on his bottom lips.

“Maybe a small hole would be enough,” Simon said helpfully. It took a second, but than Wade looked up, nearly reproachfully.

“Of course,” he groaned.

“Of course what?” Negan turned to Gary who had said that.

“What’s that? You don’t know the answer already?”

“Do you?” Gary barked.

“Okay, can we give Wade his moment here?” Simon interrupted. “Please, share with the class.”

“Supercooling and annealing,” he stated.

“I was about to say that,” Arat chirmed in. Wade gave her a look.

“We drill a hole, we cool it down with nitrogen, we heat it up with electricity, repeat it two or three times and the titanium gets brittle enough the door will fall down by itself.”

“So like in Ant Man?” Negan asked with a suspicious undertone.

“Basically, yes. We need a shitload of nitrogen for that,” he said to Simon who just shrugged.

“I take care of it.”

“What’s the deal in the bunker itself? Cameras I assume, motion sensors, infrared, sound sensor? I fucking hate sound sensors,” Gary asked and made grabby hands to the tablet. Simon gave it to him.

“Yes. To all of them, and then some. But that’s not the problem. We handle maximum security parlor tricks all the time. No, go to picture number 5. That is the real challenge,” Gary wiped over the screen and frowned down on it. Then he scratched his forehead.

“Well shit,” he deadpanned.

“The only way in,” Simon had started walking up and down like he was introducing the new iPhone. “A 12 km tunnel system, that are 7,5 miles, Negan,” the man flipped him of. “With two biometrically secured doors. Oh, and state of the art code number locks.”

“That’s a word for it. That are TK 5.25. They change the 42-digit combination every 15 minutes,” Gary mumbled. You could tell that he already thought about ways to break the system.

“Who’s biometrics?” Arat asked slowly dragging Gary out of his thoughts.

“Good question. And what are we talking about? Please don’t say iris scan.”

“Colonel Philip Blake. Rumors have it he is a real hard ass, but a by the book kind of guy. Has two daughters, a lovely wife, devoted Christian, or so I heard. And voice commands,” Gary relaxed. “And iris scans.”

“I can’t hack that.”

“You don’t have to. All we need is a scan, right?”

“What, you wanna break into his ophthalmologist’s office?” Negan asked. Simon looked for a second like he hadn’t thought about that, but then he dismissed the idea with a shrug.

“That’s where our lovely petty criminal comes into play,” he grinned.

“You want her to steal his eyes? You don’t think he will notice?” Wade asked. Everyone stared at him.

“Sometimes I cannot say if you mean it when you say things like that,” Simon said flatly. “No, I want her to get me an image of his irises,” Wade didn’t look like he thought that was much of a difference.

“And how will she manage that?”

“Let this be mine, Negan and Arat’s worry. Anyhow, that brings us to the last part. The shitload of combat ready commandos that probably could kill us 20 ways with a spork. Actually, we are talking about 4 of them, plus two technicians in the control room and three guards, who actually happen to be trained commandos as well, but hey, better than facing an army, amirite?”

“Why only 9 people, seems a little sparse,” Negan asked.  

“Because of the date, this little operation will happen. December 14th,” Simon said like this should mean anything to them although he just spouted out a random date 3 months from now.

“Okay I bite,” Negan said with an eyeroll. “What’s on December 14th?”

“I’m glad you’re asking. A joint exercise of the good folks of the Warrenton Training Center and the NSA Mechanicsburg. Nobody will be home. Or at least only a few people will be home, even less people in the outskirts of the compound.”

“There’s a town called Mechanicsburg?” everyone ignored Arat.

“How do you even know this?” Simon tilted his head to the question. Then he frowned.

“Someone gave me the intel. An unhappy former employee,” Negan stared at him incredulous.

“Seriously? Another fucking person?”

“Relax, he’s dead now,” you could probably hear a needle pin drop in the silence that followed. “Jesus gang, I didn’t kill him. He had cancer. I had to wait until he kicked it, otherwise, what we are about to do would have been very suspicious happening shortly after they let him go with stage four liver cancer and bad health insurance. So I sit on that intel for two years now. All he asked for is that we’ll take care of his daughter, financially, when this is done. She’s in college in Colorado,” he sighed.

“Two years? So the intel could be outdated?”

“Possibly. That’s why we need more recon. We do the job right. We don’t go in blind. We have three months to come up with a plan that is airtight. We can do it. We’ve done more with less. It’s dangerous, I know, and the moment any of you thinks we are in over our heads you can tap out no hard feelings,” everyone stayed quiet for the next five minutes, a not so anonymous yes. “Alright,” Simon said cheerfully. “So I guess everyone knows what to do. Gary recon and tech, Arat recon, transport and mechanics, Negan and I on the ground getting our hands dirty and Wade, you just be there till we need you.”

“Very funny,” Wade grumbled.

“You are an important member of the team, Wade. You are manning the drill,” Negan said clapping his shoulder with a grin. Then he got up. “Okay, guess that’s that,” he walked over to the liquor cabinet. “Today we get drunk in style,” he poured some expensive Scotch in elegant tumblers. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to work.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to be a cock tease with that chapter, but well... Steven Ogg's Instagram account changed my mind :)
> 
> Also, potential trigger warnings in the End Notes

Simon carelessly threw his leather jacket on a chair, stretched his back until he heard some satisfying pops and made a short trip into his kitchen. He started to rummage around in his freezer. With a little approving sound, he slammed a bottle on the counter and moved on to his glass cupboard.

“Vodka okay?” he asked casually, seemingly the cupboard door.

“Jesus Christ,” Jules cursed annoyed from somewhere in the living room. Simon chuckled, poured two drinks like he had no care in the world before he turned around and leaned against the counter. The girl looked mostly embarrassed.

“How do you,” Simon didn’t let her go on.

“You think someone can break in here without a million alarms going off on my phone? I knew what you were up to the second you rattled on my bedroom window. Although kudos you actually managed to get in here. That are some serious locks. Maybe Wade can retire to Florida after all.”

“Who’s Wade?” she asked in a mumble. Simon only sighed and let his eyes fell down on the gun she awkwardly tried to hold nonchalantly.

“What’s your plan with that thing?” she looked down on it.

“I don’t know, maybe killing you? That’s what I do after all,” Simon only scoffed, pushed himself away from the counter and walked into the living room. When he passed her he stopped for a second, looked down on her with a raised eyebrow and shoved a glass in her hand.

“No you don’t. You ain’t a killer,” he just said. He let her stand around staring at the glass for a second or two and dropped on his sofa.

“Yeah?” she turned around and sniffed on the drink. With a little scrunch around her nose, she took a sip, seemingly deciding that he wasn’t out and about to poison her. “I have a warrant on my head saying otherwise,” she murmured. Simon gave her a long and stern look.

“I read your statement, sweetheart. You didn’t kill your mother. Although you probably know who did,” her eyes snapped to him. She looked very guarded now.

“You don’t know that,” she said flatly. Simon shrugged.

“You so obviously drew all the attention on you, you might as well could have said straight away I did it, arrest me. But, you’re smarter than that. You wanted them to think it was you, let ‘em do a little work all by themselves so you could take to your heels. Because you’re protecting who did it. So,” he propped his feet up and leaned back. She had a look on her face like she couldn’t decide if he was the world’s greatest detective or the world’s largest asshole. Probably both. “Who are you protecting?”

If Simon wasn’t actually convinced that she didn’t even have any bullets in that gun he maybe would have worried for a split second that she would kill him after all. The forced confidence he already learned was more a façade than anything else returned to her face and she scoffed.

“What? You didn’t know that already when you unlocked my tragic backstory?” she asked defiantly. Simon looked at her sadly.

“In our defense, I tried to talk to you without digging up dirt on you, but you decided to sic three idiotic jocks on me. And I’m actually sorry what kind of dirt we dug up. I hadn’t expected that. More runaway teen with some light B&E, underage drinking and then just hanging with the wrong crowd, and less, I don’t know, Fantine,” she frowned at him confused and he sighed, maybe even a little disappointed. “You know I know for a fact that you own a TV and some books. Are they just for decoration?” her confused frown got even deeper if anything, so he decided to move on. “Anyhow, as I said, I am sorry. And of course, you don’t have to answer that question. If it’s any reassurance, we stuck to your criminal records, and the one or other CAS file. All things considered, you were right the other day, we do indeed know shit about the real Jules Kelly,” she scoffed and sat on an empty stool. For a couple of seconds she stared down on the glass she was fidgeting with. Then she shook her head to herself.

“So you decided to use the little you do know about me to extort me with it? You and your pal Negan are class acts,” she said bitterly and against his usual self, Simon felt like a real bastard, because that was exactly what they were doing. Maybe not in the actual sense of the word, they weren’t threatening to expose her to the cops or to hurt her, but they were close enough. The money and the offer to make all her problems go away wasn’t her share of the bounty. It was hush money, at best. Simon repeated what he said two times already.

“I’m sorry about that. And the B&E. And the thing where we were sitting ominously in a dark room with a gun. I wish I could say that was Negan’s idea, but I would be lying. And that is something I don’t do,” her lashes moved up and her eyes pierced his. For a while, they just sat like that. She had pretty eyes, dark green with a brownish ring around the irises. They reminded Simon of someone else and eventually, he had to look away.

“Is that so,” she finally muttered lowly enough he barely understood her. “So you weren’t lying about the whole clean slate either?”

“No,” Simon said seriously.

“How?” now he just took a long breath.

“Honestly? No real idea. All I know is that he needs a shitload of time and processing power. That’s why he makes the big bucks,” it was true. Gary usually got 15 percent more than the rest of them. For anything less, he didn’t even open google.

“By he you refer to the guy who can beat Anderson Silva in a cage match,” she said flatly. “You know I looked up who that is. Who does your taxes, Dwayne Johnson?” Simon laughed to that, took a sip from his drink, sat upright again and put the glass on the coffee table.

“Do I look like I would need someone to do my taxes?”

“Actually no, you look like somebody who enjoys doing it yourself. Keeps all the recipes neatly labeled. Very, very accurate. And you probably do them in February already,” she gave him a lopsided grin. Simon put his forearm on his knees and studied her for a while until he sighed. A small, rather sad smile played around his lips.

“What are you doing here?” she resumed the fidgeting again.

“I have no idea,” she finally admitted. Simon tilted his head.

“I don’t know with what kind of assholes you dealt with in the past, but we are not out and about to screw you over,” she stared into the distance after these words with tight lips and an otherwise vacant expression. Suddenly she jumped up.

“Alright,” to the surprise of Simon she walked over to the couch and dropped next to him. “So do I need to give your buddy a call or is it enough to tell you I’m in?" Simon studied her some more. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, maybe doubt and indecisiveness, but he could find neither. Jules had made up her mind.

“Welcome to the gang,” he said, picked up the glass again and held it in her direction. She looked at it for a second and hesitantly clinked hers with his.

“So what now?” she asked. Simon dropped back against the backrest making himself comfortable again.

“You report to HR first thing in the morning,” she frowned at him. Simon made a little exasperated sound. He usually was more on the figurative side of things coming to his wording and the girl clearly didn’t get that yet. They probably had a lot of work ahead of them. “I mean downstairs. The bar. And maybe sometime late afternoon tomorrow. Around five would be good. Then you get your money, a rundown of what you have to need to know,” he eyed down her body. “And maybe we need to talk about your clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” She asked him and the answer was actually nothing. Simon was especially okay with the rather short shorts that were revealing some very well-defined legs.

“Not much, really. But we need you to keep a low profile. Blend in with the crowd. It’s a Christian college we are going to send you. They don’t have a dress code, so you probably would get away with what you are wearing now, but you actually look like you are running with a band or a biker gang, and we don’t need to draw that kind of attention,” she frowned at him a little irritated.

“A Christian college? Jesus,” Simon sipped on his drink.

“Probably,” he stated dryly, and after a second or two they both had to laugh.

“I should go,” she sat after she finished her drink, but made no move to get up.

“Yeah,” was Simon’s laconic answer. They let some time pass, neither saying anything.

“You know,” she interrupted the rather amicable silence. “I wasn’t planning to rob you the other night,” he looked over to her.

“So why were you there then?” she shrugged.

“Just because, you know,” now she gave his body a little once-over. A small smile appeared on Simon’s face.

“So I really ruined the mood there, huh?”

“Kinda,” she stated tugging her bottom lip and Simon felt his resistance dissipate quickly.

“What are we going to do about it, now?” he heard himself say and like this had been her cue she straddled his lap in a cat-like motion. He looked up at her anticipatingly with his hands loosely on her hips waiting for her to make the next move. Part of him knew that he shouldn’t do this, because of a couple of reasons. First, there was the age difference, though Simon didn’t really give a shit about that. The bigger issue here was that he was basically her boss now, that he had to work with her the next couple of weeks in a delicate, precarious line of work and shit like that usually complicated things. And finally, there was that thing why he had taken a shine to the girl in the first place, and the last thing he needed was to open that door again. But all these objections flew out the window when she leaned down to kiss him. Her lips tasted like vodka, and strawberries, probably her chap stick, and they moved against his with urgency and want. She pulled away eventually, mainly to take a breath and pulled her top over her head revealing a nice set of breasts wrapped in a black satin bra. That little minx probably planned this. Simon didn’t care. If anything it turned him on even more. Their lips met again and while he added a little tongue and teeth his hands started roaming her upper body, her breasts, down to her hips around her lower back and finally landed on her ass. He pulled her closer into his lap and she groaned against his lips when she felt his already hardening dick pressing against her. Suddenly Simon got up, lifting her up with him easily, and she looked at him surprised.

“What? I’m not 20 anymore. We gonna do this in a bed, like normal people,” he said before he kissed her again and carried her to his bedroom. He could tell that she liked how effortlessly he was able to do this. Rather carefully he let her down on his bed and hovered over her for a second or two, admiring the view. Then he lowered between her legs and she pulled him into another kiss before she let him go, so he could kiss his way along her jawline and neck, down her collarbones to her breasts. She stopped him to get to the prize by tugging on his shirt. Her wish was his command. He pushed himself back on his knees, grabbed the back collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head with practiced ease. She just stared at him with rather wide eyes and Simon couldn’t help the smug and complacent smile.

“That gym membership really pays, huh,” she stated hesitantly touching his abs. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Simon chuckled and let her gawk for another thirty seconds or so, but then he decided it was time to move on to more pressing matters. He dove down again going straight for her breasts this time, removing the impeding item that was her bra with a little bit of fumbling, and then didn’t stop licking, sucking, biting and nibbling on her nipples until she was a writhing, shivering mess. He looked down on is handiwork satisfied, gave one of the hard buds a gentle swirl with his thumb and proceeded kissing his way down to her belly button. A little dip with his tongue made her chuckle. She had one of her hands ran through his hair the whole time and he had to admit that he liked the way her blunt fingernails swiped over the sensitive skin of his scalp. When his hand landed on the button of her shorts he looked up to her silently asking for consent. She nodded faintly and Simon pulled both, her short and her slip down discarding it carelessly on the floor. A tug on his hair made him look up.

“Come here,” she said in a deep voice, husky from arousal and he was back over her in a heartbeat crashing their lips together. One of his hands wandered up to her inner thigh closer to her core until he finally reached her most sensitive organ. She was warm, hot really, and so wet already he couldn’t leave that unmentioned.

“You really enjoy yourself here,” he more stated that asked and a barely coherent “U-hu” was her only answer, because Simon had slowly pushed in his index and middle finger pumping them in and out in a lazy rhythm all while his thumb teased her clit in a barely there touch. She had shut her eyes, her chest heaved heavier and heavier the closer he pushed her to her release and occasionally a quiet moan escaped her mouth. Simon could have watched that spectacle for hours, but he had other things in mind. He withdrew his fingers abruptly. The confused looked she gave him made him grin.

“Don’t fret petal. I’ve got something better for you,” with that he rummaged in the drawer of his nightstand and took out a condom. He made short work getting finally rid of his jeans and boxer briefs and was about to open the little wrapper with his teeth when she snatched it out of his hand and did it herself. Before she put it on she took Simon’s hard and precum leaking dick in one of her hands and slowly moved it up and down a couple of times. Simon groaned. He was close on asking her to stop, but then she rolled the condom down his dick with amble fingers.

Simon decided she was ready enough and wasn’t wasting any time.

He pulled her closer by her hips, lined up with some help by one of his hands and slid home on one smooth thrust. She arched her back deliciously. He experimentally moved a couple of times slowly in and out trying to get familiar with her body and she rewarded his efforts with soft whimpers and moans. He himself groaned lowly in the back of his throat. She had him in a tight grip, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up what he was doing, but he would be damned if he wouldn’t make it worth her while here. So he speeded up the rhythm until he pushed into her fast and steadily.

“Simon,” she pressed out, and boy did he like it when they called out his name, but he liked even more what she said next. “Harder...plea...oh fuck...please!"

She wanted it hard? She would have it her way. His hips snapped forward a couple of times hard enough to mix pleasure with pain. She tried to thrust back, but he held her down good, didn’t allow her to move, showing her who was in charge here. One of his hands found its way to the back of her neck grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling it just shy of too hard. Judging by the moan and the shivers much to her enjoyment. She was clawing on his back now, her nails too short to leave marks, but hard enough to make him feel it, and tried to pull him closer, tried to take him even deeper, sending him the signals that she was getting close, that it won’t take much more to send her over. He was close himself, feeling the familiar coil of heat pooling deep down in his core. His thrusts already had become erratic. He wanted her to tip over first, so he took his chances and closed one of his hands around her throat cutting off the air. She cried out when this took her over, and Simon would have been worried that he took things too far, but he was busy falling over the edge as well, emptying himself inside, getting milked by her spasms while thrusting her through her own release. Her body went limp. He was able to roll off from her before his simply collapsed and crushed her and for a while the only sound in the room was them catching their breaths. He turned to her, looking in her flushed face, pupils still wide, with the shine of post-orgasmic bliss. He leaned over and kissed her, soft this time, deep and clever, and she kissed back. They were good together, like they had done it before, and Simon was glad he hadn’t pushed her away earlier, although there was a nagging thought in the back of his head that he indeed should have. He could feel her relax against him already half asleep. After a while of silently watching her Simon sighed and scooted a little closer to her sleeping form. He draped an arm over her waist, and she rolled over, burying her face in his chest with a content sigh. He pressed a kiss on her head, before sleep took him over as well.

When he woke up he was alone. Not only in the bed, he just knew that she was gone. He rolled on the back, palmed his face and stared on the ceiling.

“Shit,” was all he could come up with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> choking


	6. Chapter 6

Jules turned the ID around in her hand and looked up into a very stern face. It was clear that the black guy in front of her a, had a very low opinion about her, b, probably not the least bit respect, c, didn’t want her to be here, and finally d, would like her more if she would be a stain on the floor. So she fell into a default state that had gotten her into trouble more often than not. It had gotten her into that trouble here, although it was still undecided how big of a trouble this here was exactly. The default was called bitch.

“Julia Morgan? Isn’t that a little bit on the nose? Why not Kelly Jules? Or Jane Smith?” his reaction was to snort, turn to Simon with an exasperated expression and a headshake and then to walk away in a huff and to the back where the woman sat, that could be his identical twin when it came down to how she seemed to feel about Jules. Simon looked after him with a tired sigh. He had been weird towards her. Kind of distant. A little cold, too, and sure enough he wasn’t making eye contact when he turned to her.

“It literally doesn’t matter what your name is unless it isn’t something incredibly rememberable or unusual,” he mumbled. Jules wasn’t convinced.

“Yeah, but that is basically my name. Shouldn’t it be something completely different?” now Simon looked her in the eyes, with a little purse around his lips, clearly downwards. They both jumped when Negan slapped his leather jacket on the counter of the bar.

“That’s the point doll. The closer to your real name the less likely it will get that you forget it,” he took a quick look over his shoulder. “I see Gary and Arat fully embraced the new situation,” he said with a grin. Then a little louder. “It’s good to see that we are all a big, happy, dysfunctional family now and we will have absolutely no problems with each other at all,” Gary flipped him off. Negan chortled and then looked at Simon. “I had a shit day. Can you give me a coffee?”

“A coffee,” Simon repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to keep an eye on you tonight mister? Better give me your car keys right now,” Negan scoffed.

“You can make it Irish if it makes you feel any better.”

“It does,” Simon stated before he sauntered over to the coffeemaker. Negan looked at Jules.

“I’m glad you decided to join us. Imagine my excitement when Simon sent me a two-word text this morning without context telling me you’re in. So, any questions?”

“Literally a thousand,” she stated. “Why would you think I will forget a fake name for starters?” Simon put a coffee mug in front of Negan. By the smell of it, it was more Irish than Columbian. Negan took a sip, put the mug down and shared a look with Simon.

“Did you ever run a long con?” he asked her seriously. “By the end of next week you will waltz in Claire Blake’s life and you two will be two peas in a pot. You will have to remember to be a completely new person, with a family, hobbies, interests, dreams, future plans and a shitty taste in music and TV shows. You will need to juggle a fucking metric ton of new facts creating a carefully crafted persona whose sole purpose is to wrap that girl around your finger becoming instant best friends. That’s hard work sweetheart, and believe me, it will take a lot of energy. People might gloss over the fact that you mix up the model of the car the first boy tried to fingerbang you in, but mixing up his fucking name or your own for the matter? That’s a huge fucking red flag. So keeping it as close as possible to your real name is one of many little pro tips to make it easier on you. So instead of making snarky quips, you should break out your writing pad and start taking notes,” Jules let her eyes drop down on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Good,” was his only answer. After a couple of very long seconds, she carefully looked up again. Negan’s expression was rather indifferent while he sipped on his coffee, while Simon’s seemed to be more lenient.

“Negan,” he started, but the man wouldn’t have it.

“No Simon. You know I’m right. This shit is serious. Our job is to make this whole gig here run smoothly and like planned. Hers is to fucking work with us by being a good little girl and doing whatever the fuck we say. The sooner she understands that the better,” he snapped. Simon looked at him hard. His eyes darted to her for a split second and back to Negan.

“Can I talk to you for a second,” he said flatly, but in a tone that allowed no resistance.

“Fine,” Negan put the mug down with more force than necessary. The same could be said for the way he pushed back the bar stool. Simon gave her a small smile that was probably supposed to be conciliating when he showed Negan into the kitchen. Gary frowned after them with a solemn look while Arat only stared into her phone. Jules turned back to the counter and rubbed her face with both hands. This was going great.

“I see you already settled in?” her eyes flicked up. A guy that looked like he was an extra in an early Matthew McConaughey movie grinned over to her. “Made friends with the pack and all,” he looked over his shoulder and actually winked at her.

“Who the fuck are you?” she asked. The guy held out his hand.

“I’m Wade. At your service. And you must be Jules. Pleasure to meet you,” she eyed down on the hand. He was the first one who actually introduced himself to her and she wondered if he was doing it ironically. Carefully she shook it. His grasp was firm and the smile on his face genuine. Hard to believe that he was supposed to be part of that gang here.

“You’re the safe guy that considers retiring to Florida,” she said, in a lack of alternatives, and he laughed.

“Safes, locks, keys and security systems actually. I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Not really, no. That’s about all I know about you,” she said with a small smile on her own. His only answer was another chuckle. Then he leaned over to fish for a bottle of beer before he settled down on the bar stool again.

“So where are Negan and the other guy? The big dude with the mustache?” he asked. Jules shrugged.

“Kitchen. Talking in private,” she mumbled.

“I see,” then he looked around in the room. A solemn frown took residence on his forehead. He leaned over conspiratorially. “Hey, I let you in in a little secret. Whatever is going on here? The whole cold shoulder, you don’t belong here and whatever Negan did shtick? Don’t take it too seriously. They did the same with me. I’m not saying that they aren't complete assholes, but a lot of it is just to check out what kind of wood you're carved out. Putting you to a test. Simon thinks you are the right gal for the job, so you probably are. Don’t worry about that. All you have to do is listen and learn, but don’t let them give you shit. Fastest way to earn their respect is to show them what you can do. In the meantime, chest out, chin up and don’t let them get to you. And don’t forget, you already have two friends here out of five. That ain’t too bad for your first day,” with that he smirked, gave her shoulder a little nudge and sauntered to the booth the other two were in. She stared after him. She couldn’t contemplate his words or wonder how this obviously very jovial and sort of weird guy fitted in that crew here since Negan and Simon came back. Negan looked more tired than angry, now. He dropped back and his chair after a nod to Wade and gave her a once-over. Then he reached into his side pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He more or less threw it in front of her.

“Your money,” he stated. She hesitantly took the paper. It was a telephone number.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked. Negan sighed.

“Fucking call it basically jumps to mind,” he said which got him another long look from Simon.

“It’s a contact in a bank. In Panama,” Jules frowned surprised.

“That’s a real thing? Like in the movies?” now even Negan had to smile.

“What? Do you think we let huge piles of cash laying around? What kind of stupid government institution would that make us?” Simon said with a grin. She had no idea what he just meant, but Negan chuckled. “Give her a call. From a burner phone. She’ll explain what you have to do to cash it in or make elaborate investments. Buy some Apple stocks. Whatever you want. It’s all legit, figuratively. We work with them for ages. But don’t do it right away. Let a couple of weeks pass. Gary just moved the money. Might catch attention if you move that much money again.”

“And from what am I supposed to live when I can’t get to it?” she asked both of them. Negan huffed somberly.

“Oh, we pay for your expenses the next couple of weeks. Call it a bonus.”

“That was not part of the original deal.”

“It is now,” Simon said curtly. And like he would shut down every further discussion forcefully if necessary. Jules kept her mouth shut. She had the impression that was mostly a thing between Negan and Simon and she just should stay out of it and take the gift horse these guys just dangled in front of her. “Alright. From tomorrow morning on you will have one job, becoming Julia Morgan. Together we will come up with an airtight cover story from where little Julia spent her vacation with mommy and daddy when she was three years old over to social media accounts and blogs on the internet. We won’t stop before you can recite Julia’s genealogy at least 5 generations down and how the Morgan’s landed in Kearny, Nebraska building up a small, but successful enough business to send their only daughter into a prestige Christian college in Washington. We will make her traceable on the internet, give her a social security number and a bank account. We will make her real. And you will learn to live, breathe and be her until you believe she is real, too. Are you up to this?” this had been quite a speech and all Jules could do for a very long time was just blankly stare at Simon.

“Okay.”

“Great. Any further questions for now?”

“Uhm, yeah. What about the actually stealing something from her dad part?” Simon shrugged.

“We cross that bridge when we get to it,” he deadpanned.

“What?”

“Kid,” Negan started. “Believe me. It turns out you are not up to this indeed you don’t want to know what we are planning. In the meantime, we need to figure out if you can even weasel yourself into Claire’s and in extension the Blake’s life. If it turns out you can’t we need to make a hard U-turn and call the whole thing off. Don’t worry, even in that case you get your money. Don’t wanna fucking pressure you or anything, but you are a crucial part of the whole fucking plan,” there was an awkward silence that Simon interrupted.

“That’s a lot to digest. We should call it a day. Talk more tomorrow. Okay?” he said to everyone. Negan was the first to stand up.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then,” he already walked out snapping in the direction of the booth. “You guys coming?” Jules had the impression they couldn’t get out of the bar fast enough. The only one who waved as a goodbye was Wade. Jules was suddenly alone with Simon who looked after them.

“I need to apologize for Negan. He usually is a little bit more easy going than this. He just got bad news,” he said.

“What kind of bad news? The ones that turn him into a jerk?” she mumbled.

“Yeah, and with good reason. But that’s not your worry, okay? Just don’t let it get to you, okay? Although he did make some good points, just his bedside manners leave a lot desired,” he sighed. “Look, Jules. About the other night?”

“What about it?” she had vaguely expected him to bring it up.

“I don’t think there should be a repeat of it,” he said curtly. And then he said something that did both, oddly hurt and pissed her off. “It was a mistake,” her eyes snapped to him.

“Yeah? Didn’t really feel like you thought that when you fucked my brains out,” she said in a snarky tone. Simon sighed and tilted his head.

“I should never let it get that far,” he had to be shitting her.

“ _You_ shouldn’t let it get that far. Just wow,” she jumped up. Simon seemed mostly confused now.

“What? No, I didn’t mean it that…”

“Fuck you, Simon. And don’t worry. It won’t ever happen again,” with that she stormed out. Simon was calling after her, but she ignored him. She wasn’t even sure what just happened here. A mistake, like this was her fault somehow. Because that was what it always was, her fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, there will be more smut in the next two chapters :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the scam I'm describing is one of the most commonly performed scams by con artists, it's called the short change scam. This is not a manual. It's described for information and entertainment only. Don't go out scamming people. Stealing is a crime :D
> 
> also: TRIGGER WARNING in the end notes

The doorbell dragged Jules out of a rather deep sleep. She growled into her pillow.

“What the actual,” her words got cut off by another ring leaving her own ring of pain behind her eyes. She had tossed around half the night until she had thought fuck it, sleeping pills it is. Drowning them with some red wine of questionable quality might have been a bad idea. She opened a gummy eye and peaked at her alarm. Whoever was on that door had to be shitting her, since it was barely 6:30 in the morning, and they were ringing a storm now. Where was her gun when she actually needed it? With a groan, she kicked away her comforter and got up.

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped the moment she ripped open the door. It was Negan. A lewd grin appeared in his face the second his eyes fell way below her chin, and she was suddenly well aware that she was basically wearing nothing but a slip and an old tank top. “What are you doing here?” instead of an answer he walked inside, pushing her away.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” he sing-songed making a beeline for the kitchen like he owned the place. With a headshake she slammed the door close and followed him, grabbing a sweater jacket from the hall on her way.

“Seriously, it’s like in the middle of the night,” Negan ignored her, instead he was opening cupboards randomly. “The second from the left,” she mumbled going on a limb here that he was looking for coffee. That would be what she would be doing since the sun was barely up. He took his time preparing coffee, not without a pejoratively raised eyebrow to her very simple coffee maker. That he wasn’t answering really made Jules uncomfortable. “You grace me with your presence, are you gonna grace me with an answer what do you even want here, too?” she tried not to sound too pissed off and missed that by about 100 yards. Negan turned around and held a coffee mug in her direction. To be honest she was surprised he even bothered to make her one, too.

“Get dressed. I’m gonna take you shopping,” she blinked at him.

“What?” he shrugged.

“Julia Morgan has a little less candid taste in clothes,” his eyes fell on her legs. “Shame you ask me. And you need some other shit. Stuff that a 19-year-old would put into her dorm room. The fuck do I know, Nick Jonas posters and cute Hello Kitty thingamabobs,” Jules tilted her head. She couldn’t help the little smile.

“I see you are the most qualified for the job,” Negan scoffed.

“Arat wrote a list. She would do it herself, taking you shopping but she doesn’t want to. And since I am apparently the only fucking one without anything better to do. Voila. Here I am. Now get your little ass into your bedroom and put on some clothes. Chop chop.”

Just to piss him off she took her time, she even took a shower, and judging by how tense his jaw was when they drove over to the mall she had managed that just fine. The actual shopping part was oddly uneventful. Apparently, Julia Morgan was aware that she was pretty (“There’s no denying how you look, doll, so why should she?”), but had decided to only show the goods in an appropriate way, and school meant the setting was rather conservative. It was funny to hear Negan say the look she aimed for had to be rather boring, although she could have the one or other candid piece, then she had to aim for cute rather than sexy. After she showed him the third pair of jeans combined with either a shirt, a blouse or a top in some pastel color that he waved through without complaint he trusted her enough to finish the job while he scrolled through his phone occasionally looking over her shoulder making approving little sounds. A couple of outfits, two cute dresses, some low top converse sneakers and a new hair cut later he was pleased enough with her performance that he didn' seem to be angry at her anymore. He even threw in a meal in some roadside diner. Jules was playing with a strain of hair squinting down on it.

“You know that I never had like, a real hair cut before? In a hair salon?” Negan eyed her over the rim of his menu with a solemn look.

“That’s the fucking saddest story I’ve ever heard,” her only answer was a little huff and an eye-roll. “I don’t hate it,” he said. She frowned at him.

“The hair cut?” with a sigh he put the menu away and leaned back.

“Your…compliance today. No snarky quips, no sarcasm, no stupid questions meant as a joke, just listening what I told you, getting it done. Granted it was just shopping, no life or death kinda thing, but it’s a start,” Jules blinked at him.

“Coming from you this is high praise for me,” she said seriously. He scoffed, but there was an amused smile on his face, albeit a small one.

“Don’t pedal back, darlin’. I’m just starting to like you,” he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and a credit card. “So, I trust you to do the other shopping shit on your own,” he held it toward her but pulled it back before he could grab it. “I’ll track that card, doll. You make any all so slightly out of the ordinary purchase and I’ll find you and spank your ass,” he handed both over with a lewd, little grin. “Although you probably would like that,” Jules smacked her lips.

“You’ll never know.”

“We’ll see,” she couldn’t help it. She actually felt herself blushing. And this hadn’t even been a particularly smart line. But there was just something about that guy. She couldn’t dwell since the waitress came over. Negan suddenly was all smiles and sparkling eyes. Jules looked at him irritated. The waitress was blushing, too. She was older, a little round around the middle and had the pouches of a mom with two high school age boys, so Jules wasn’t judging, but she probably rarely get attacked by so much charm coming from a  man like Negan. What could she say? He was very attractive.

“Hey, how are you?” she asked while she filled their cups with coffee. Was there a little, nervous handshake?

“Oh we are fantastic,” Negan glanced on her name tag. “Nancy. How are you? Busy day, hu?” it was. The diner was packed and she was the only waitress.

“Oh you betcha,” she said while she couldn’t quite make eye contact. Negan put his forearms on the table top and leaned over a little.

“Pity for us then. I really would have loved to get to know you a little better. But don’t let me keep you,” and this point Jules just leaned back and watched the show, since she was sure that Negan was up to something. “I’ll take the grilled chicken salad, the dressing on the side and two ryes and she takes the grass-fed beef burger, extra bacon, and French fries, no onions.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Tap water’s fine, thank you,” he said slyly.

“You got it,” Nancy said rather flustered now. And Negan amped up the radiation.

“Thank you, Nancy, you’re a doll,” she walked off to bill their orders with an honest to God giggle. Jules had so many questions.

“Are you trying to fatten me up?” Negan turned to her. Then he looked down her body a bit.

“Wouldn’t mind a few extra pounds, but no. A man can only have that many vices. Was a fucking tie between the fatty acids and the drink, but ultimately the drink won,” Jules nodded thoughtfully.

“Bad blood pressure diagnosis?”

“Yep, doesn’t mean I can’t watch a pretty girl indulging in carnal pleasures once in a while,” this should not actually flatter Jules the way it did, because it was a gross thing to say.

“I can’t decide if this is disgusting or sorta sexy,” she finally said. She couldn’t really tell when this whole thing with Negan turned into flirting, but here they were.

“Aw, sweetheart, you know the answer already,” flirting with a lot of red flags. Jules always had a thing for those. There wasn’t much talking until they got their food, again with Negan basically creeping over poor, overwhelmed Nancy and then even less talking. Negan indeed watched attentively how she ate her food and she couldn’t help but to put a lot of seductiveness into how she popped fries in her mouth.

“So what’s the deal with Nancy?” she suddenly asked tearing Negan away from staring solemnly at how she licked her thumb clean.

“You’ll see,” he grinned signaling the woman to bring them the check. She put it down on the table.

“That’s 30,25,” Negan fumbled in his wallet and put a 50 dollar bill on top the receipt.

“Make it 40,” he said all perfect teeth. Jules could respect a generous tipper. Nancy, too. She would never figure out what actually happened when she did a cash up a couple of hours later. Negan was counting through a bunch of bills. “While you’re here, can I ask you a favor? I have so many tens, would you mind changing them into a hundred dollar bill?” Nancy was very quick to comply. Negan counted a couple of tens and placed the little stack next to Benjamin Franklin that Nancy already had put on the table. She counted them.

“You’re one short,” Negan looked ashamed now.

“Shit, sorry,” he fumbled through his wallet again. “I am so embarrassed.”

“No problem,” Nancy assured him. He took out more tens.

“You know what? Can you give me like a 100 and a 50? This should be 15,” this time he counted them off himself. She gave him the two bigger bills out of her cash wad. “Thank you darlin’. You are a real sweetheart,” Nancy had gone through all shades of red already to that point.

“Don’t mention it. Now you two have a nice day,” she said and hurried along not without shooting Negan a small smile. Jules looked after her and then at Negan.

“That was a thing of beauty,” she stated and Negan just wiggled his eyebrows. He had pocketed the first hundred dollar bill together with initial ten dollar change right the second Nancy had taken the 9 tens. “You know I tried this once and I ended up losing money. You have to teach me that,” Negan grabbed his jacket after he quickly finished the coffee. That much Jules knew. You didn’t run out of an establishment like something was on fire, but you didn’t stick around until the person you just scammed figured it out either.

“Come on, let’s get you home. Gary will bring you your homework in a couple of hours.”

“Homework?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah, background story mostly. Don’t think there won’t be a test. Now get in the car, come on.”

Later at her apartment, Jules was surprised that Negan got out and grabbed the shopping bags.

“I don’t mind carrying them my,” he interrupted her.

“Shut up,” all she could do was sigh, and lead him upstairs. In her apartment she watched him putting the shopping bags on her kitchen counter while she hung awkwardly back in the hall. He turned around and looked at her without saying anything before he walked closer. Somehow he managed to crowd her against the wall without actually crowding her. She looked up to him.

“What are you doing?” he came a bit closer. Jules should feel uncomfortable, but that wasn’t what she was feeling.

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he said.

“Aren’t you married?” her eyes flicked to his lips for a split second and back at his eyes. He hadn’t missed it.

“There are a lot of reasons why you should send me through this door. My wife ain’t one of them.”

“That, uhm,” Negan closed in on her lips but pulled away again before his could touch hers grinning down on her smugly. She had lifted her chin in anticipation of the kiss. This was all consent Negan needed. He grabbed her hips, firmly, shoved her against the wall, and kissed her hard and with more passion she had expected. A groan escaped her lips, half protesting when his tongue forced itself inside her mouth, not that he cared, but eventually, like someone flipped a switch, she gave up all resistance. It hadn’t been much there in the first place. Her eyes fluttered shut, she let her head fall back and opened her mouth accommodatingly. So far Negan had held back. With a possessive growl, he grabbed her by her thighs and pushed her up the wall roughly. All she could do was holding on when he shoved her on top of the dresser on the other side of the hall after he spun both of them around easily. Jules moaned when he bit her bottom lip hard enough she tasted copper. He stopped attacking her mouth eventually and turned toward her neck. She wouldn’t wonder if he would have started sucking marks into her burning skin but he did nothing like that, he only pressed open-mouthed kisses down her cervical muscle to her collarbone. So no one would know, a part of her said. The part that was always there, always alert, always analyzing the people around her, constantly reminding her what a failure she was. She ignored the sudden guilt. Negan did a good job by distracting her anyway. He had pushed up the skirt of her dress, grabbed the hem of her panties and pulled them down chafing the skin of her thighs. He finally just ripped them off and Jules couldn’t help but to glare at him for that. He chuckled and gave her an almost gentle peck.

“Just buy yourself a couple of new ones,” she glared some more and he only grinned while one of his hands found its way between her legs and two fingers theirs inside of her. Her eyes rolled back, so did her head. Negan pushed his fingers in a little deeper, pressing all her buttons. “So wet for me already,” she could hear the lewd and smug grin in his voice. “Attagirl,” the praise, if you could call it that, made her moan and the guilt was back. For just a second she wanted him to stop, but she did nothing to make him. Negan pulled his fingers out of her and shrugged his leather jacket from his shoulders carelessly discarding it on the ground. He had a condom in his hand. Of course, he had. Jules nearly hectically fumbled his belt buckle open and Negan had to snigger about the urgency. The dresser was too high for him to take her sitting on it, but he decided that it had a perfect height for her to put her forearms on. There was nothing gentle in the way he slammed into her from behind, holding her hips in a tight grip she probably would bruise, occasionally letting go to squeeze her breasts hard through the thin fabric of her dress and bra or to pull her head back by her hair. He was rather quiet, all raspy breaths and low groans. Jules was loud enough for both of them. She held onto the dresser like it was a lifeboat, totally absorbed by the sensation of him thrusting inside of her again and again, steady and with a nearly brutal pace. She vaguely wondered how he could keep it up. The dresser rattled against the wall with every shove and the glass bowl she kept her keys in bounced dangerously close to the edge until it eventually fell over shattering in pieces. Jules didn’t care. She was engrossed by the sweet, raw pleasure Negan gave her. It became too much until, finally, she came so hard it was almost painful. Negan must have come as well, she hadn’t even noticed, because he pulled out after the last of the trembles and shivers that had shocked her body passed.

“Good girl,” he mumbled with a smack on one of her ass cheeks before he stepped away. Jules was still in the middle of catching her breaths. She looked over her shoulder to Negan who already had gotten rid of the condom and was in the middle of tucking himself away. “I’m gonna use your bathroom,” he picked up his leather jacket leaving Jules standing like that. It took her a while to gather the strength to get upright again and she brought her dress back in order. With a sigh, she picked up the ruined panty that she just threw in the kitchen trash. For a while she stared into her own reflection in the microwave, sweaty, disheveled, distorted by the grid on the glass. It made her eyes look empty and dead. Negan came back, and he looked like nothing happened.

“I’m heading out,” he said, highlighting the statement by twirling his car keys around. “Have to say the day turned out to be half as shit as I anticipated,” his grin matched his tone. Jules sighed and without a word she led him to the door. To her surprise he didn’t walk out immediately. He stopped and put a hand on one of her cheeks. “What’s with the long face, doll? Makes me feel like I’m a real asshole,” Jules chuckled weakly.

“You _are_ an asshole,” Negan smiled at her, that bright smile, white teeth, dimples and all. There was just something about that smile. It made Jules forget that she meant what she just said.

“You like it, though,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I like it,” she couldn’t help but say. Negan leaned in for a kiss that wasn’t hard, or passionate or like he wanted to claim her, just sweet and chaste and comforting. When he pulled back she had to avert her eyes, suddenly shy.

“See you around, sweetheart,” Negan said softly. Then he opened the door and walked out of her apartment. She closed it and dropped against it with her back. Her gaze fell on the shards of the glass bowl. She couldn’t even remember where she got it. Maybe it had come with the apartment. Jules closed her eyes and let her head fell back against the wood with a thud. She palmed her face and inhaled deeply. Her voice echoed loudly through the empty hall.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dub-con, since there is some serious power imbalance in that chapter


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the plotter in me had scheduled this chapter to include smut, the pantser turned it into angst because this is just one of those days :)

Simon looked on his phone for the umpteenth time and inhaled deeply. He was sitting on the stairs in front of her apartment for nearly an hour now. He didn’t know where she was or when she would come back. He wasn’t even sure _if_ she would come back. What he was sure of, though, was that he was a solid nine of being a creep hanging around her apartment like that. The older lady passing him half an hour ago thought so, too, judging by how she had pressed her purse closer to her body when she walked past him. That and the mumbled pervert had given her away. He heard footsteps and looked up. Jules stood on the foot of the stairs looking up to him surprised. She had a take out bag in one hand and her keys in the other. Simon slowly got up.

“What do you want?” she said walking up the stairs busy studying the keys.

“We need to talk,” she shot him an annoyed look when she opened the door.

“Oh in that case. I am surprised you are not in my living room right now, practicing your lurking. Since this is something we do,” she somehow snapped. He maybe deserved that. Or maybe not. He actually wasn’t sure what exactly he had done warranting that she was pissed at him.

“Can I come in or not?” her answer was to shut the door in his face. Or not it was. He lifted his fist to knock when she opened the door again. She leaned against the doorframe defensively crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You can stay right where you are and do your talking. Or you know what, back off a little,” with a pull off his face he stepped a couple of steps back. She looked at him expectantly. “So?” she snapped. Her attitude started to anger him. That was probably the reason why what he said next came out with more snark than he had initially intended.

“I wanted to apologize, but then it occurred to me that I have no idea what I am even supposed to be apologizing for,” she snorted through her nose. An ugly sound.

“This is how you want to play this?” Simon just stared at her for a second or two, then a frown crawled into his face.

“What is “this” even, huh? Why are we even fighting? What is it that you heard the other night? That I am accusing you of something here? That I think you led me on somehow?” Jules glared at him.

“Oh, I did lead you on. I climbed you like a jungle gym. That’s not why I’m pissed. I am pissed because you were totally on board with it from the get-go. You took full advantage out of it. Never even raised an eyebrow. You would have fucked me a week ago in the back of your bar, no questions asked and suddenly it’s a mistake?” she nearly spat the last word. She looked very hurt now and Simon didn’t know why. What she said next gave him a clue, though. “Do you have any idea how many times I fucking heard that?” Simon frowned at her, kind of sadly. She had tears in her eyes now.

“Jules,” he started softly. She suddenly stepped a step out of her apartment and turned up the stairs.

“Are we having fun yet, Mrs. Burbanks?” Simon looked at her irritated but then he heard the sound of a door being hurriedly shut. Probably the old woman that had called him a perv earlier. “Yeah, you heard it right, you old bitch. I fucked him and I liked it. And he’s twice my age. He could be my fucking father,” she yelled up the stairs. Simon came closer.

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snapped. He hadn’t, and he wouldn’t.

“I won’t. Just go inside,” he insisted softly and finally she relented. She stormed down the hall and into her living room. Simon followed slowly and stopped at the door. Jules had curled up on her couch, showing him her shoulder.

“Can you just go,” she said with a slightly broken voice.

“No,” he walked in and sat on the coffee table. “We need to talk this through.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know,” he looked at her sadly. “Look at me, come on,” it took a while, but then she sat up. She wasn’t looking at him, though, she was looking at some spot on his chest. “Please don’t take what I say next the wrong way,” she turned her face away, “but we are not equals in this,” she looked at him with big eyes. “Three days ago Negan and I practically took over your life. We made every decision for you since then. How you have to act, how you have to look, what you have to say, we even cut your hair, and then there is the thing that you are actually completely in the dark what we even want from you. And we are paying you for this. You work for us now. I’m your boss and things like that complicate things. Hell, they already did, and we haven’t even really started yet.”

“I don’t really understand what you are saying,” she mumbled.

“It was a mistake _because_ I took advantage of you. And I am not sure if you are even aware of that. You said it yourself there. I am twice your age. You are 20 years old, and suddenly we drag you into this situation out of the blue. I can’t even imagine how overwhelmed you have to be, how confused, how scared actually, and the last thing I should have done is sleeping with you. And this is all me. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not blaming you for climbing me like a jungle gym,” that made her chuckle, albeit weakly. “And I am sure as hell don’t judge you for liking it, because that would be super hypocritic of me, but I am worried at this point that you maybe wanted to do this for the wrong reasons, and that is not a thought that just occurred to me after either,” he said seriously. She sat there with an emotionless face and stared at something in the hall.

“Wrong reasons like what?” she asked him softly. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.

“Like there is a part of you that thought that sex is something I expect from you after our encounter in the bar and that you did it to please me somehow,” her eyes fell on her hands. Simon sighed another time, sadly. He had been afraid that had been the motive.

“That wasn’t the reason, not with you anyway,” she said lowly enough he barely heard it. Odd phrasing, but he wasn’t pressing her on the subject. She looked up. “You’re right,” she stated with an awkward chuckle. “I am scared and confused. And I keep wondering what I got myself into again and if it ends with me getting hurt or worse. And that sounds maybe immature, but I am really worrying that Gary and Arat will never like me,” her expression got serious. “Because I’m a very likable person,” Simon had to chuckle. “A hit on every party.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” they looked at each other’s eyes for a while.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said.

“For what?” Jules just shrugged.

“The drama?” Simon’s reaction was a little smile and half an eye roll.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to worse drama. When you are friends with Negan it basically comes with the territory,” he smirked. She chuckled.

“Yeah, I can see _that_ ,” they sat in silence for a while until Simon cleared his throat.

“So are we good?”

“Yes, we’re good.”

“Good, because I need you to trust us, okay? Something I am convinced you aren’t doing right now. But it’s important you trust us, me,” she bit her bottom lip with a solemn frown.

“You want me to trust you?” he just shrugged as an answer. “Then tell me the whole plan. All of it,” Simon stayed silent for a long time.

“I can’t. Not all of it, for your own safety. But I’ll make you a deal,” she frowned at him. “I know the place you got the take out from. You give me the summer rolls and I tell you your part in it, the whole part. Deal?”

“Deal,” so Simon did. In great detail. And she listened attentively, occasionally asking him some questions. When he was done he gave her the same line he had given the others, one word and she could cop out, get her money and her new life, no hard feelings. Jules thought about it for a very long time.

“That’s pretty risky,” she finally said.

“I know. We are there all the time. Talk you through it,” she looked at him skeptically.

“Will this even work?” he shrugged.

“It works in theory. We try it out first, of course,” she nodded.

“Okay, I guess you got what you asked for,” a question mark appeared in Simon’s face and she smiled a little. “I am actually trusting you on that,” Simon chuckled.

“Then my quest here is done. Okay,” he got up and dropped next to her on the couch. “Come on. I want my end of the deal. Get me my food,” she looked at him amused.

“Can I throw in some beef noodle salad? It’s really good” Simon smacked his lips.

“How is that even a question?”

They ate and watched Pretty Little Liars since that was Claire Blake’s favorite TV show according to her Tumblr page. Although Simon stated halfway through episode one that this was some bullshit, making Jules agree wholeheartedly, he ended up watching three more actually engrossed in the plot. At least more than a 42-year-old male should be. It was well past midnight when she walked him through the door.

“Get some sleep,” he said halfway out. “And I promise you no one is going to drag you out of bed at 7 in the morning this time.”

“It was 6:30, barely,” she smirked. Then she got serious again. “Simon?” he turned around and looked at her. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she shrugged awkwardly.

“Just, thank you,” she walked to him, tiptoed, and gave him a kiss, not on his mouth, more on one of the corners. He pulled away rather abruptly. He couldn’t really tell if she even noticed it.

“Don’t mention it. I see you tomorrow. Big day tomorrow,” he stuttered his way through this goodbye and suddenly was in a hurry to leave. When the front door fell shut behind him he took a long breath of the fresh September night. He had meant everything he said to her, but that was not the only reason getting involved with her had been a mistake. He had another one, deeply personal.

Simon pulled out his phone. His finger hovered a second over the button that would open the chat with Negan but eventually he pressed it. He needed to get his act together, and usually, nothing helped more to achieve that than a night of drinking listening to Negan’s raunchy rants. His thoughts wandered off while his fingers tipped away.

She hadn’t meant the kiss as anything other than a gesture of gratitude, he knew that and yet the second her lips had touched his skin his stomach had melted into a puddle and his knees had gotten weak. He didn’t need these kind of emotions, he really didn’t, especially not now. He had buried them a long time ago together with his family.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a naughty girl. I wrote this at work because work-life-balance sucks at the moment. I sincerely apologize for the long delays between chapters. But anyway...enjoy :)

“Favorite color.”

“Blue an’ gold, the colors of ‘r boys, the Lopers, we fight for UNK, woohoo!” Wade next to Jules had to laugh, even Arat cracked a half-smile, but Gary’s only reaction was to lift his eyes from the screen in front of him leaving him staring at her.

“Yeah, don’t do the accent thing,” he deadpanned. Jules smacked her lip.

“You love it, admit it,” he took a deep breath and went back to the computer.

“You have no idea how annoying you are,” was his mumbled reaction. Jules grinned.

“I have, actually,” the last four days Jules had spent every waking hour with either one of them, mostly Arat und Gary, and what could she say. She was growing on them. This was a rather new development. All she had to do was stealing some of their shit right from under their noses and throw it back in their faces in the perfect moment, a moment Gary handed her on a plate when he mumbled something along the lines of how useless she was. Let’s say Arat and Gary were actually impressed that she had managed to take his wallet and her car keys that Arat had on a keychain in her back pocket. Jules had kept Gary’s money. When he carefully asked if she would hand it back she had deadpanned a fuck you in his face. That was the first time she got something resembling a grin out of the guy. Simon had just said together with a pearly white smile that he had told them she was good. Speaking of Simon, the man hung behind the counter of the bar and did something on his tablet. Until last night he had been really nice to her, considerate, caring even. He had brought her breakfast, twice. She had thought this was very sweet and maybe a bit odd, but then Frankie had asked her if she would be so kind to retrieve two bottles of whiskey from the storage in the back and she had run straight into Simon when she turned around one of that over-stacked shelving units and the only thing saving her from going down together with two 200 dollar bottles of booze was him catching her by her hips. They had a moment. Jules wouldn’t have minded if he would have shoved her up a wall like Negan had the other day, and for a second or two it seemed Simon was actually about to do just that, the whiskey be damned, but then he let go of her like he just got electrocuted, had mumbled an apology and had hurried to get away from her. And since then he made sure there were at least 15 feet and possibly a table, chair, counter or person between them. She didn’t really understand what was going on with him. To be honest she had thought that he was sending her rather clear signals the past few days, and then he just had to make that weird 180. She maybe had misread the entirety of their interactions. Her eyes fell back on Gary.

“Are you done yet?”

“It’s an art,” he said to the screen in front of him. Arat chuckled around the beer bottle in her mouth. Jules sighed dramatically.

“Its selfies, and Facebook. I don’t know much about art, but I don’t think that qualifies,” Gary’s only response was to give her a long look until she just shrugged in an attempt of an apology. He took a long breath.

“You might think it’s only a Facebook page, but it has to look like it’s up since 2012 and you think all those fake friends like your posts on their own?” maybe he had a point there. Jules scratched the back of her nose.

“You know, that was maybe the weirdest thing I ever did, taking all those selfies,” she got stared at as a reaction, by all three people on that table.

“It’s hard to believe that. I mean you didn’t find anything here maybe a bit weirder than that?” Jules pursed her lips in contemplation.

“Nope, definitely the weirdest thing. I mean I think I made a duck face in a couple of pictures,” Gary actually grinned at her when he turned the screen around.

“I know, I made one of them your profile pic,” Jules couldn’t counter with a sarcastic retort, although she maybe had something like that coming since Gary’s look focused on something or someone behind her and a frown crawled in his face. He closed the laptop slowly and made a little head jerk in that direction.

“Wade,” he just mumbled. The man turned around nonchalantly, got serious as well and sat up from where he loitered in the seat of the booth they were currently in casually putting an arm around her shoulders pulling her closer a little. What the hell?

“Just act like everything Wade says is the funniest thing you ever heard,” Arat mumbled. Wade next to her chuckled.

“Aw, she doesn’t have to act for that, right, babe?” Babe? Someone stopped next to Jules and she finally understood what was going on here. It was a cop, uniform, service gun, sheriff star and all. And he stared down on Gary who glared back. He was tall, good looking, Jules had to give him that, even in that uniform (she wasn’t especially fond of cops) and was currently studying each of them for a bit, sticking on her longer than on the others. Finally, he somehow knocked on the table.

“Ladies,” he said with a small, smug smile and sauntered over to Simon. The man in question still stood relaxed over the counter with his elbows on the top and an indifferent expression.

“What you think he wants?” Arat asked lowly.

“I have no idea,” Gary deadpanned.

~

Simon finally pushed himself up into a half-hearted attention when the cop sat on one of the barstools like he had all the time in the world. Simon put his hands on the counter, tilted his head a little and a lopsided smile appeared on his face.

“I see that referendum finally made a decision about the new uniforms. Have to say the black looks better on you. Brings out these pretty blue eyes. Never liked the tan,” there was no answer, just an ironic look. Simon smacked his lips. “How can I help you, Rick?”

“It’s Sheriff today, actually,” Simon raised an eyebrow, mock impressed.

“My my, a duty call. You found out about the parking ticket, didn’t you, Sheriff Grimes? You going to arrest me? I won’t resist,” Sheriff Grimes sighed.

“There was an incident last Saturday. In Old Town. Around the area where the farmers market is?” he looked at him expectantly. Simon only shrugged.

“Can you be a little bit more specific?”

“Three guys got beaten up. One rather badly. Apparently, they saved some girl from a bunch of men?” Simon had a hard time to keep his cool. A bunch of men, huh?

“Sounds terrifying. The poor girl.”

“She got away. We have no idea who she is, or who the assailants are,” they stared at each other for a bit. Then Rick pulled out a notebook and flipped through it. “Yeah, turns out our poor weekend heroes can’t remember how the first two looked like, but they more or less came up with a decent description of the last one. Has to be one scary dude,” Rick’s eyes flicked between Simon and the notebook. “At least 6’5, real linebacker type, because, and I quote, “man he had to be one of those, one of them football dudes, with the steroids and stuff. He was built like a shit brickhouse” end of quote,” another pause. “No? And he had a beard, anything from a goatee to mutton chops, the boys were really indecisive with this one,” Simon had to bite his bottom lip.

“I am so sorry to hear Deputy Ford went off the rails like that,” he said seriously. Rick sighed.

“Simon, if I would drag you to the station and line you up with a couple of lookalikes, will the boys point at you?” Simon smacked his lips.

“Not when they want to keep sticking to their story,” he grinned. He actually had no idea how Rick had jumped to that conclusion, but here they were. Another sigh from the Sheriff who pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you didn’t beat up those kids?”

“No,” Simon said curtly.

“Where have you been then, last Saturday, around 11 a.m.?”

“Hm, let me think. Last Saturday,” he stared into the distance for a while. “Right. Negan and I had ourselves a little road trip to Roanoke. He finally found someone who sold a carburetor for that Mustang Coyote of his. You should swing by his house sometime. She’s shaping up nicely. I know a connoisseur like you would really appreciate all the work he put into her,” Rick looked rather tired now.

“And if I _would_ swing by his house and asked him the same question, then I reckon he would tell me the exact same thing?”

“Verbatim.”

“Alright,” he tabbed the notebook on the table and shot a long look over his shoulder. “So who’s the girl?” Simon’s eyes flicked to Jules and right back to Rick. He shrugged.

“Some bar fly Wade brought along, I suppose,” Rick nodded.

“Hm, funny actually. You know the boys gave a description of our alleged victim as well? White, somewhere between 17 and 24, around 5’4, dark brown hair, jeans shorts and a vintage band shirt, sounds familiar?” indeed it did. Simon stayed unmoved.

“Kinda vague, actually, you ask me,” Rick tried the staring down thing again. One of those days he would learn that this wasn’t working on Simon.

“Well,” he started. “I am relieved it wasn’t you, though, since I don’t peck you as someone who is dragging little girls into back alleys,” he gave him a pointed look.

“Glad to hear you are still thinking that even I have my hard limits,” Simon’s expression turned almost a little apologetically now. “And if I would do things like that it probably would turn out to be a huge misunderstanding and a bad case of false hero complex and self-defense.”

“Is something like this the reason for that black eye you’re sporting,” Simon huffed a small laugh. It barely could be called black anymore.

“Something like that,” Rick looked at him hard, and long.

“Are you and Negan planning something?” he finally asked exasperated. Simon put on his trademark smug smile.

“Just Lucille’s birthday party. It will be a surprise. You guys probably will get invited as well. Bring these annoying two kids of yours,” Rick stood up and tapped the notebook on the countertop again.

“Fine, but I hope you know that I can turn my eyes only into that many directions,” Simon shrugged.

“There’s nothing to see no matter where you look,” Rick didn’t exactly appear like he was believing him.

“Alright, then I guess my work here is done. Give my regards to Negan,” with an irritated little sound he turned around and was about to leave in a stride. To the annoyance of Simon, he stopped next to Jules. The girl was clearly uncomfortable. She didn’t like it either.

“This is not really the company you want to keep, kid,” he finally said. Simon smacked his lips.

“Aw come on Rick, Wade ain’t _that_ bad,” he cheered. Rick shook his head, half amused and left the bar.

“What the fuck did he want,” Gary asked the second the door fell shut. Simon just shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously? This is what you suggest, to me of all people?” that earned him an impatient frown.

“It was about Jules, alright? Or rather if it was me beating up the dumb bastards that came to her ‘rescue’,” he made actual air quotes. “I really wonder what the thought process there was. Maybe he thought you know whom I hadn’t accused of aggravated assault in a while? Simon.”

“In all fairness, the accusations stand on solid ground,” Wade provided helpfully. Simon rolled his eyes.

“I should be the one pressing charges. I am the victim here,” he grinned. Gary didn’t find it the least bit amusing.

“Will Rick nosing around in our shit be a problem?”

“I doubt it.”

“You _doubt_ it,” Gary repeated dryly.

“It’s Rick, okay? Rick’s Negan’s and mine problem, not yours. And what just happened here stands in no relation whatsoever with the gig, okay? Totally different pair of shoes. So fucking relax. Seriously,” he snapped. Then he just left and walked up the stairs.

~

The rest stayed behind in awkward silence. Finally, Wade decided to say something.

“So is anybody working here right now? Maybe someone should text Frankie or Tanya?” Arat scoffed.

“Someone should text Negan. What’s up with him and that weird mood swings? It’s like he has PMS,” she grumbled. No one said anything to that. Gary eyed Jules up with a knowing frown until she shifted around uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” he mumbled under his breath and went back to his computer. Their little get-together ended gradually after that. Wade was the first to excuse himself. But first, he indeed texted Tanya that someone had to man the bar and the girl showed up on short notice and in a huff. Arat was next, after Negan summoned her via phone, not that Jules had any idea what that was about. They actually still didn’t tell her shit. This left her in the company of Gary, who acted a couple of times like he was about to say something, but in the end, didn’t. After he left, too, Jules stared up the stairs with a contemplating frown. Five minutes later she knocked reluctantly on Simon’s door. He sighed tiredly when he opened it. Jules stepped a step back and started to fidget with the bracelet on her wrist, suddenly unsure what she even wanted here.

“Uhm, yeah, Tanya just took over your shift, I guess,” she told the caps of her shoes.

“I know. She texted me, bitch slapped me verbally actually. I probably deserved that. Anything else?” Jules tugged her bottom lip and her eyes darted up. Simon looked back at her, kind of sadly.

“Simon, are you mad at me or something?” she asked rather quietly. His reaction was a frown and a bemused head tilt.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she shrugged and scratched her upper arm.

“I don’t know. Because I got you into trouble with the police?” he let out an exhausted breath and stepped aside, showing her in. She did, albeit unenthusiastically. Simon walked into his living room, obviously expecting her to follow him. He dropped on the sofa and looked up to her.

“You didn’t get me in trouble with the police. Don’t worry about that. The matter is done, case closed,” she had a hard time believing him.

“Are you sure? I mean why did he just walk in there like that? How did he even know it was you?” Simon palmed his face and chuckled weakly.

“He didn’t know that, well not until I basically admitted it, he just suspected. Because he’s apparently clairvoyant like this. But anyhow, there won’t be any consequences, not from Rick, okay? Look,” he took a long breath, “he owes us, Negan, mostly, big time, for getting his son out of some unspeakable trouble paying back the fuckers who dragged him into it twice as much and then some. Since then he turns his eyes every which way when it comes to yours truly. And it isn’t even like he knows what we are up to. He has actually not the slightest idea. He thinks we are probably laundering money or organize cockfights and illegal poker games. His eyes would bulge when he would know about all the cons or that one time we stole uncut diamonds worth a little fortune or that thing we are trying to pull off now. I mean if someone really would find out what we are doing for a living this probably wouldn’t even fall under his jurisdiction, more like the FBI’s. I am actually kind of proud about that,” Jules wasn’t saying anything. She just stood there. Thing was, that cop showing up, showing interest in her specifically, had shaken her up more than she liked to admit. Simon frowned at her and suddenly his face went soft. “Aw, shit,” he mumbled, got up, stood in front of her in a matter of seconds and carefully pulled her against his chest. She melted against it. “That scared the living daylight out of you, didn’t it?” he asked softly above her. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t wanna go to prison,” she said softly enough she wasn’t even sure he heard it. ”I am not sure I can do this, what if someone finds out?”

“You won’t. I promise, hey,” he pushed her away a bit and took her face in his hands, „when anything, and I mean _anything_ , goes South we will be there, okay? We are your safety net? And nothing wrong with a little stage fright, but don’t you worry. I know you can do it,” he smiled down at her and to Jules surprise leaned forward pressing a kiss on her forehead. When he pulled back she just stared in his eyes for a second or two, then she grabbed his wrists, got on her toes and kissed him. Simon froze immediately. Jules recoiled from him, already stuttering an embarrassed apology. She hadn’t meant to do this.

“I’m so sorry, I just leave,” she mumbled halfway out of the door. He grabbed her hand. There was a dragged-out moment, maybe just ten seconds, maybe less, where they just stared at each other. Jules couldn’t quite read Simon’s expression, but then, with a resigned little sigh, he pulled her against him. The kiss they shared was sloppy, too much teeth and spit, but also fervent and full of want, so Jules didn’t care. Simon pushed her jeans jacket over her shoulder while he led her backward towards his bedroom his lips never leaving hers. She nearly stumbled over it, so Simon, just like the last time, simply lifted her up. He threw her on the bed. It made her laugh a breathless laugh. She crawled backward a bit, making room for him while she urgently got rid of her shirt. Simon did the same when he knee-walked on the bed. Jules decided that his belt would look nicer on the floor. She grabbed the buckle, opened it, and pulled it out of his jeans with a small smirk up to him. He looked down on her, eyes slightly hooded from arousal, and put a hand on her cheek. He gently caressed it with his thumb. Jules paused for a second. The gesture was strangely intimate for what was basically a hookup. She shook the awkward feeling off and moved on to more urgent matters. With nimble fingers, she opened the button of his jeans and grabbed the waistband of it together with the one of his boxer briefs. When she was about to pull it down, clearly in an attempt to go for his dick next, he stopped her.

“No,” he said in a deep voice,” not like that,” she looked up to him irritated. Simon smiled at her, just a small, warm, a little wicked smile and bend down forcing her to fall on his pillow. He kissed his way down her collarbone. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he said. She wasn’t quite sure what he meant with that, but she just went with it. So she relaxed into the comfortable mattress and watched Simon slowly, but determined going down on her. She got a little nervous when it was blatantly clear that he was about to do exactly that, going down on her, since that was something no one had ever done to her, but she lifted her hips a little to help him get her out of her shorts nonetheless. Simon wasn’t going for the price immediately he took his sweet time instead. He gently kissed her mound and the insides of her thighs until he slowly made his way to her second lips. It tickled, at first, mostly his mustache, but suddenly a jolt of pleasure surged through her body. She cried out. Within seconds she lost control of her body. One hand unconsciously flew to his head and she pulled him in, closer, deeper, begging him not to stop. The other clutched the sheet hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. She couldn’t quite pin down what exactly he was doing, but she never came so hard so fast. She had to be loud, she wasn’t quite sure and frankly, she couldn’t mind less if the whole bar downstairs heard her. She twitched and writhed enough it was almost a seizure, and Simon had to hold her down with his strong forearm, otherwise she might would have fallen out of bed. Simon wasn’t stopping whatever he was doing, sucking and licking on her clit, and she either came a second time or just for a very long time, she couldn’t discriminate anymore. When the little shocks of pleasure gradually died down, Simon retreated a bit, but he wasn’t done yet. Fingers joined his expert tongue, two, maybe three, but enough to make her feel stretched already. He moved them in and out in a languid pace, but there was nothing gentle in the way he pushed inside her, hard against that special spot and to her amazement she felt another orgasm approaching. It hit her unsuspected when he combined sucking on her clit the same time he firmly thrust his fingers inside deep. He let her ride it out slowly all while he watched her dying a little with arousal in his eyes, and maybe something like awe. She couldn’t tell, and she couldn’t dwell on it since he pushed himself over her and caught her lips in a kiss. He tasted of her, a little salty, a little musky, and against her expectations this turned her on even more. It took a bit of effort, since her body felt quite boneless, to finally open her bra. Simon helped, and he cupped her breasts after he threw it carelessly into the room and took her nipples in his mouth one after the other. She looked down on him, and let the fingers of one hand gently run through his hair. She felt soft and warm and content, and Simon could have suggested anything she would probably agree. That’s why she didn’t hesitate a split second when he asked her to turn around. He didn’t pull her on hands and knees, though, but made her lay down comfortably on her stomach. When he finally pushed inside her slowly she nearly had to sob. His thrusts were slow, a leisurely rhythm, and he occasionally leaned down to give her a kiss over her shoulder. It was like the room temperature rose slowly, the sound and smell of their bodies moving together filled the room and Jules lost every track of time. It could have been ten minutes or two hours, she didn’t know. They came together, Simon made sure of that with a few well-aimed strokes over her clit, and Jules moaned into the pillow while Simon clutched her hand hard that he had grabbed at some point. He let himself fall down on the mattress after he pulled out carefully, half on top of her, but she wouldn’t complain. She would have protested that he stood up after another long kiss to go through all the post-sex notions, but she couldn’t even if she tried, worn-out by Simon. It took only a couple of seconds for her to drift off to sleep after he climbed next to her into bed again taking her in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Simon was awake for a while now. He had watched the sun get up, had followed the bright morning light slowly making its way through the bedroom window covering everything in a warm, red glow with his back against the headboard and a leg pulled up. She still was there. He had been a little surprised by that. He had been sure she would bail on him again, just like the last time, but now she lay next to him, one arm over his hip, and snored softly. He thought it was cute. With a sigh he let one hand run through her hair. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Negan would say to him could he see them now, or Gary for that matter. The latter probably insisting that this would endanger the job, the former more concerned about Simon’s wellbeing, although he usually had a very aggressive way of showing it. Both would be right. Simon was past caring. At least that was what he told himself. Last night had felt right, so be it that it probably wasn’t real. His phone buzzed when a message arrived and he unlocked the screen. It was a text from Negan. He wanted to meet in their warehouse. Yes, they had a warehouse, although it was owned by a shell company, outside town. Wade had dug up a safe, a similar model to the one in the bunker, and they wanted to try out that supercooling thing. Negan wasn’t explicitly saying that, though, he used their code that Simon only understood because of over 20 years of experience. It actually sounded like fun, but he didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in bed, with Jules, enjoy the little time they had, since Monday was the big day, and they would send her off to school. He would see significantly less from her then. He always had tremendous timing like that. Despite his lack of motivation he texted Negan back that he would be there. The answer was a wrongly used emoji.

Jules was slowly waking up stealing away Simon’s attention. She looked up to him and slid a bit away. He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t surprising that she was making it awkward.

“Hey,” he laid back down again and faced her with a smile. She hid her face in the sheets. Simon chuckled. “So I take it you never woke up in a man’s bed before?” that had her snigger into the blanket.

“I should go,” she said which made Simon roll his eyes once more.

“No, you’re not. Because,” he pulled her closer by her hip and brushed the hair out of her face, “there is etiquette to consider.”

“Is there now,” Simon gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. She still was avoiding eye contact.  

“Absolutely. Let’s see, this is my apartment and I obviously want you to stay,” now she looked up.

“You do?” her tone broke Simon’s heart a little because she seemed genuinely surprised.

“Verily. Anyhow, where was I. If you really want to leave I am in no position to stop you, but I at least would offer you a ride home. I am gallant like that. But.”

“Oh, there is a but coming.”

“But I believe you don’t want to leave,” she scrunched her nose.

“And what gave you these insights?” Simon smacked his lips.

“Your cuddling,” he stated.

“I do not cuddle,”  she insisted with an amused tone in her voice.

“Oh, you cuddled me like the world’s largest blankie.”

“I did not,” she sniggered. Simon nodded and gave her a small kiss on her nose.

“You did,” then one on her pulse point. “Not that I blame you,” another one behind her ear. “I am very cuddlable,” Jules laughed, and Simon shut her up with a kiss. When he pulled back she was smirking at him.

“You know, I thought that morning breath thing would be worse.”

“You say the most poetic things,” she just chuckled. This time she was kissing him. Simon allowed himself to get lost in the kiss, in that feeling of bliss he hadn’t felt in a long time and the thought came to mind calling off Negan. Jules retreated eventually, and dropped on her back, stretching a little. He sighed nearly disappointed that the kiss hadn’t led to something more, but he had to admit he liked the sight.  

“So what does etiquette require next?”

“It requires of me, that I have to make you a delicious, nutritious breakfast, and of you, to eat it.”

“Okay, then let’s do this,” she got up, trying to cover the small, roundish scars on the left side of her lower back. Simon had seen them, and he had a very clear idea of what has caused them, but he hadn’t made a big deal out of it. She looked around for her clothes. “I’m gonna use your bathroom,” she announced. “And I’m gonna borrow that,” with an elegant motion she let his shirt glide over her arms and shoulders. Simon would have preferred her staying naked, but she in his shirt was a rather nice compensation.

“There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink,” she shot him a small smile over her shoulder before she disappeared into his bathroom. He stared at the door for a while then he got up, too, put on his boxer briefs, and sauntered into his kitchen. He was studying the content of his fridge when she put an arm around his waist and her chin on his shoulder. She had to stand on her toes to achieve that.

“That is a very adult refrigerator. What is that?”

“That’s a tomato. Please tell me you knew that?” he turned around. “Okay, what do you want to eat?” a small, a filthy smile appeared on her face and her gaze fell down his body. She came closer and kissed him with surprising urgency and Simon was on board immediately. He somehow managed to close the refrigerator door, before he grabbed her by her hip and led her backward. They stumbled around in his kitchen until they finally reached his kitchen table. Simon lifted her up on it. His hands wandered under her shirt while she mouthed along his neck and down his collarbone. He grabbed her thighs and jerked her against him. When he proceeded to lower her down on the table she suddenly stopped him.

“No,” he let go of her immediately and looked at her confused, “not like that,” Simon frowned at her. With a smirk, she gave him a little shove, so he stepped back and she jumped from the table. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he had to chuckle. Then he allowed her to change position with him. It was a short inner struggle, but in the end, he had to ask her what he was asking her next.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Does it occur to you,” she said against his pulse point, “that I want to do this? And I am very good at it,” she gave him an actual wink, a silly gesture that made him chuckle before she without further ado dropped on her knees taking his boxer briefs with her. Jules wasn’t taking any prisoners today, she went all in. Simon’s head fell back and he couldn’t stifle the loud ground when she sucked in his already half-hard dick. She was good at it, alright. She swallowed him down deep a couple of times more then she loosened the tight vice around his length a little, albeit not much, and started to move her head back and forth in a smooth and steady rhythm. From time to time she let her tongue flick over the head of his penis. When she took his balls in one hand and began to massage them rather gently it nearly became too much. He didn’t dare to look down on her, convinced this would be enough to push him over and he was about to tell her to slow down a little when his phone went off. Loud. Loud enough it startled him, and her. She bit him, not very hard, but it was the cold shower he hadn’t asked for. He yelped out in pain and reflexively pushed her head away.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” she stuttered. He looked down on her trying to catch his breath. She was genuinely concerned. He managed a smile.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” the phone was still ringing. Simon didn’t believe in voicemail, “actually you can go on,” he encouraged her. Jules tugged her bottom lip.

“Maybe you should get that,” she said all innocence. “Could be important,” Simon sighed which only made her smirk and then he trolled for his phone. It was Negan. It took Simon two or three long breaths before he could pick up.

“Negan, hi,” he said, proud of himself that he sounded only a little awkward.

“What the fuck took you so long to answer your fucking phone?” the other man barked at him. Someone was in a mood.

“Hello to you, too. I am fine. Thanks for asking. How are you?” Simon said sarcastically. Jules still knelt in front of him studying his very rock-hard penis with nearly scientific interest.

“Don’t get fucking cute. So when were you gonna tell me that Rick nosed around in our shit?”

“Soon?” Simon suggested, and this time he couldn’t keep the awkwardness out of his voice because Jules had decided to take his dick back in her mouth and was currently sucking at the glans like it was a lollipop. Simon could only stop himself from giving Negan an unwanted phone sex experience by biting in his thump.

“Soon? Jesus Simon, he showed up at my house. In uniform. You could at least give me a fucking heads-up that would happen. Asked me where I was last Saturday and shit. How the hell did he know it was fucking you who beat up those boys? I mean is shit like that so much your MO that you are the first person that comes to mind? Did he even consider the possibility it could have been me?” it maybe sounded like a joke, but part of Simon knew that part of Negan wished he really would have a notorious reputation like that. Jules let her tongue wander around the rim of the head before she kind of dipped inside the slit. Simon had to press the phone against his shoulder and forced his breathing to slow down.

“You need to stop this,” he said barely audible, and Jules just chuckled around his dick, which sent sparks of pleasure through his body. “What did you tell him?” he managed to ask Negan who wasn’t answering for a while.

“That we went to Tijuana and I sprung for a hooker for you,” he finally deadpanned.

“What? I mean you didn’t, oh fuck,” the oh fuck hadn’t been for Negan. Jules looked up to him, really smug, and really proud. She had taken up the rhythm again.

“Of course not. Told we were in North Carolina for car parts. Simon are you alright? You sound fucking weird,” Simon could literally hear the frown.

“I’m fine,” he said rather breathlessly. He really needed to end this call, because this wouldn’t take much longer before he couldn’t guarantee for Negan’s salvation anymore.

“Are you, though? Are you outside or something?”

“Yeah,” he had grabbed her head a little trying to make her at least slow down, which didn't work at all. “I’m outside. I,” he pressed his lips together. Okay, that was it. “I gotta bounce, see you later,” with that he nearly hectically pressed the red button and more or less dropped his phone. Jules had stopped and very slowly pulled his penis out of her mouth with a dirty little pop.

“I gotta bounce? Really? What are you from Chicago now?” Simon had no patience for this anymore. She made a surprised sound when he simply pushed his dick back in her mouth, but she went with the program without hesitation. She had started this after all, and Simon had to admit she did her best to end this on a high note. It took one last swirl over the sensitive head together with a firm squeeze of his balls and he was done for it. He should have probably given her a warning, though, because when he came down from his high he was confronted by a slightly affronted Jules. She had managed to evade the second load, but the first one not so much.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Jules rolled her eyes, not really angry.

“They say sperm is good for the skin,” she said getting up and removing some of his cum from her cheek wiping her hand carelessly on his shirt.

“Who says that?” she shrugged.

“Porn producers?”

“Let me clean this up,” he said softly. She shook her head and gave him a kiss. He pulled his face a little, because she had also some on her chin, which meant he now had, too.

“I have a better idea. I’m just gonna take a long, hot shower,” with that she turned around leaving Simon standing there feeling a little guilty. “You are coming?” she called after she stepped around the corner. Simon shook his head and chuckled before he pushed himself away from the table following her. That girl was something else, that was for sure.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING in the end notes.

Four pairs of equally skeptically frowning eyes watched Wade going at it for more or less 15 minutes until, with a rather annoying screech, the door of the old safe in front of them fell off its hinges and clattered on the concrete floor with a metallic bang that reverberated with the walls. Negan tsked after a short look at his watch.

“Seventeen minutes. That ain’t too bad,” he stated looking expectantly at Simon who wasn’t saying anything. “Simon?” Simon turned to him and stared at Negan like he just remembered that he was there.

“What?” Negan sighed. Simon was off. Not so much moody like Gary and Arat had complained, but distracted and unfocussed. He had come nearly an hour too late as well. A red flag, considering it was Simon who would literally lock the door and keep you out when you didn’t show up on time. Negan had been worried, close on starting to call hospitals, and Simon had just shrugged. No explanation, no card saying sorry, no gift basket.

“It’s very loud,” Gary stated. “Any chance to do this less noisy?” Wade smacked his lips while he proudly observed his handiwork.

“Oh yeah. We just seal the bunker until it's airtight, suck out all the air, create a perfect vacuum and any noise shouldn’t be an issue anymore. Would come in handy with the sound sensors, as well,” he deadpanned. Gary was not impressed.

“I take that as a no. How do you know so much about vacuums? Or anything about vacuums? Did you get high and watched science documentaries on YouTube again?”

“Is there any other way?” Wade grinned.

“Ok, great. Let’s just put some blankets underneath, problem solved. Are we done here?” Simon asked. Everyone turned to him.

“We just got here. We have stuff to talk about. You wrote an agenda,” Arat said slowly. Simon’s shrug conveyed nothing but incomprehension.

“Nothing on that agenda is urgent,” Negan couldn’t believe what he was hearing here. Did Simon just really say that? Simon?

“So you think getting our hands on a couple of Belle Haven Security key cards so I can clone them and you two assholes can get access to their server room isn’t important? This shit needs to be planned meticulously,” Gary snapped. Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Important is not the same as urgent. There’s plenty of time to go over this next week,” he just said. Gary turned to Negan.

“Can you _please_ say something here?” he exclaimed. Negan took an annoyed breath.

“He’s fucking right, Simon. What plans could you have made this weekend that are more important than the fucking job that can get us obscenely rich and oh yeah, possibly fucking dead?”

“You guys are blowing the tiny chance that this might happen really out of proportion,” Simon mumbled. Negan looked at him impatiently. “What? Do you need an absence note from my parents? You are not _my_ gym teacher,” he joked. Halfheartedly, but it pissed Negan off.

“Let’s have a little chat one-to-one, shall we?” he said in that chilly, cheerful tone that meant you better did what he asked you to or you would pay the consequences. He more or less shoved Simon out of earshot of the others and glared at him until he shrugged defeated.

“What,” Simon asked flatly.

“I am asking you that. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Simon said dismissively. “What is even the problem here?”

“What is the fucking problem? The problem is that this here is a sensitive job and I need you on your fucking A-game. I need you fucking focused. Or at least mildly interested.”

“Who says I am not?” Negan gestured around.

“Fucking everyone,” Simon scoffed and walked a couple of steps away. Negan sighed. He knew exactly what was going on with Simon. Maybe not exactly, but he suspected enough and it most likely was true. And he didn’t want to bring it up, because opening that can of bees never was a good idea.

“Wow, great to know that everyone is so eager pointing fingers instead of cleaning up their own backyard. Wade’s got the attention span of a four-year-old, Arat is mostly busy getting into trouble either with guys or girls and you run off first chance you get to get your dick wet, and Gary,” he paused. “I have nothing for Gary. Gary’s doing great,” he finally snapped. “Anyhow,” he came closer to Negan again pointing his finger at him. “I think you are being rather hypocritical and quite frankly judgmental coming at me like that for just, I don’t know, wanting some time for myself for once,” he snapped. Negan took a long breath. Okay, here it came.

“For yourself, huh?” Simon stared at him blankly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I should have shut that shit down the second you said you would go after her. You are too fucking close to this Simon. You’re out of the game,” Simon frowned at him bemused, then understanding what Negan just decided for him crawled in his face.

“That is so not your call to make,” he growled.

“Oh, it fucking is, because one word from me and this fine crew of ours will drop their mics and we are fucking out of here,” Simon’s only reaction was pressing his lips together and avoiding Negan’s eyes. “That’s what I fucking thought. I’ll handle her from now on. Only me. You stay away from her and focus on what you are good at,” Simon shook his head.

“You don’t even know what you are talking about,” he mumbled.

“I know enough. I don’t know what the fuck you think you are doing there, but it ends, now. Get your fucking shit together,” Simon stared at Negan defiantly and Negan looked back unmoved. They had done that dance many times. Usually, Negan won. Suddenly Simon stepped a step back and let a hand run through his hair.

“She trusts me more than you,” he tried to argue. It was a weak argument, and by the looks of it, he knew that. Negan shrugged.

“She doesn’t even know you. It literally doesn’t matter whom she is reporting back to, as long as she gets the fucking job done. And that is something she can do without you holding her fucking hand. I know that much. When you put ideas in her head though, who fucking knows? The kid has issues, Simon. You don’t need them on top of your own. And you fucking know that. That’s why you being all moody and brooding with the thousand yards stares and the temper tantrums. You know you should put a pin in it and move on, instead of doing whatever it is you two are doing,” Negan snapped dismissively. He had started to pace. Simon watched him walking up and down for a minute or two, a thoughtful expression on his face. Maybe the man was prone seeing reason after all. Then he looked up. Maybe not.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not this time. That ain’t even your gig, it’s mine. Go ahead. Take the others. Show me going actually through with one of your idle, little threats for once. I’m waiting,” he challenged him provocatively. It never was a good idea to provoke Negan. Negan glared at him. “That’s what I fucking thought,” Simon parroted him. Negan had to swallow his anger back. “How about that,” Simon came closer, making the most out of that one inch he had on Negan. “Stay out of my fucking business,” he said lowly and in a tone that would have led a lesser man to run for the hills. Then he turned around and walked away.

“Simon,” Negan called after him and surprisingly enough the other man slowed down a bit. “You are aware that this here isn’t even about the job, right?” now he actually stopped. “I can’t have you going down that road again. This isn’t about her or even you,” Negan ignored the warnings from the other three like a champ. “This is about Abby,” Simon turned around slowly. The look in his eyes made the skin of a man like Negan crawl. He could see Gary and Wade somehow inching closer.

“You don’t fucking say her name,” Simon said in an icy voice. To avoid that situation to escalate Negan would have to choose his next words very wisely.

“You failed to save your fucking wife, now you are hell-bent on saving some random chick just because you can who happens to look like her. This will end badly. Pretend-feelings won’t change that fucking fact,” and failed spectacularly. Simon could be surprisingly fast. His fist connected with Negan’s chin forcefully. Negan heard bones break, hoping it were Simons’. He went down and Simon was basically half on top of him already when Gary and Wade pulled him away from Negan. Arat stepped between them. It would take a lot more than what Negan just said to make Simon go through her. One of his better character traits.

“Hey big guy, the sun is getting real low,” Wade pressed out still struggling to hold Simon back. It earned him a menacing scowl, but it was enough to snap Simon out of it. He shook Gary and Wade off, shot one last glare at Negan telling stories about betrayal and the ides of March, and then he stormed off. Gary helped Negan up, just so he could admonish him.

“You had to fucking say that? What you’re waiting for? Make this right before he kills someone,” he even gave him a little shove. Negan rolled his eyes but followed Simon in a brisk step. He already sat in his car and started it. Negan positioned himself in front of the grille.

“You wanna fucking run me over? I can’t wait to see you talking yourself out of this one,” he called out. Simon’s answer was to let the motor rev a couple of time. Then he shut it down with an impatient gesture. Simon’s anger was usually as volatile as it was fleeting. Negan checked out the general mood before he slowly got in the car. After he pulled the door shut they sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like 37 years. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he finally said.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Simon, look,” he started, but Simon interrupted him.

“Just don’t, okay? I don’t need your platitudes. Not this time,” he said sadly. They resumed sitting next to each other without talking. Negan didn’t really know if Simon wanted him to leave or stay, so he decided to just stay until Simon would send him packing or start talking. He wasn’t the chattiest guy when it came to his wife, and what she had done. “People keep telling me,” he started softly, “that I did everything I could. The cops, her docs, you, even her parents, everyone really. You know what is the sentence I heard the most? The one that everyone is spouting? Like it somehow explains, or excuses any of it? When someone like her really puts their mind to it, there is no stopping it,” Negan looked ashamed on his hands. He was one of the people who had said that, too. “People like her. What does that even mean?” Simon scoffed.

“She was very ill,” Negan started, unsure what to say. Simon looked at him with pursed lips and an otherwise empty expression.

“I know that, but she didn’t just get sick from one day to the next. I watched her hurting, for years, and I did nothing. I decided to look away and buy into the façade everyone else was buying. I decided to believe all those I am fine’s and don’t worry about me’s, instead of actually noticing what was going on with her. That she wasn’t fine, that I should have worried,” he said tonelessly. Negan gnarled on his bottom lip. It wasn’t the first time he heard that particular part. Simon was beating himself very hard here because the whole nine years of his marriage had been rocky from start to finish, and although he couldn’t assess what really went on behind their door he knew that Simon _did_ try to help her deal with her mental health issues more than once.

“You couldn’t know what she would do,” Negan said softly. Now Simon chortled.

“Oh I couldn’t, could I? You sure about that? I mean think about it. She was psychotic when she took them. She didn’t want to hurt them, she tried to protect them. And what did I do? I locked her up, in that shithole, so they could drug her and tie her to a bed, just because I was scared. The kids and I were the only things she had. And I took that away from her,” Negan’s face went soft.

“That’s not what you did, and you know it. You said it yourself. She was psychotic, irrational at that time. She belonged in that hospital. And they should have taken better care of her. This is more on them than it ever will be on you,” Simon shook his head.

“The hospital staff made a mistake, I made a decision. And because of that decision, Abby thought the only way not to lose them was taking them with her. How is that not my fault?” Negan stayed quite. There was nothing to say. Simon wouldn’t cry. He had cried all the tears, drank all the bottles and punched all the walls that were to cry and drink and punch. All that was left was grief, and guilt, and resignation. He took a long breath and let his head fell back against the headrest. “Maybe you’re right,” he stated clinically. “Maybe I got carried away here. Maybe that is exactly what I am doing, trying to save her,” Simon turned his eyes to Negan solemnly. “And the day started so well,” he said. Negan frowned at him.

“Wait, on the phone earlier, were you?” he trailed off and for a split second, a smug look appeared on Simon’s face. “Yeah, I did not need to know this,” Negan mumbled. “At least you got laid,” Simon sighed.

“It felt more like just that,” Simon said very softly. Negan sighed.

“It maybe does now. I don’t know what to fucking say. I think rip the band-aid off as long as you can. I am not the expert in healthy relationships, I know that much, but no matter how I look at it, there is no happy fucking ending for you and her.”

“I know. You're right,” Simon took a long breath. “Look I am sorry.”

“For punching me in the face?” Negan asked seriously. Simon huffed a laugh.

“Not really, no. You were right, though. I don’t really have my head in the game at the moment,” Simon let his forehead drop on the steering wheel. “I feel like an asshole. Firing assholery in all directions,” Negan smacked his lips.

“That’s why I love you,” he laid one hand on Simon’s shoulder and squeezed it shortly. “I keep an eye on her. She’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” Simon sat back and reached for the car keys in the ignition. ”Get out of my car.”

“Fine, but if you need anything Lucille’s with her book club tonight. So I have time,” Simon looked at him bemused.

“Book club, seriously?” Negan just shrugged.

“It’s an excuse for drinking white wine on a weeknight,” he jumped out of the car. “At least text me,” he said before he threw the door shut. Simon made a whatever gesture before he started the car and stirred it on the road. Negan stared after him soberly, hoping he would do the right thing.

~

Simon’s fist hovered a second or two over Jules’ door before he collected the courage to knock. It took her a while to open and it didn’t help his case that she just looked beautiful in that comfortable looking jersey short and wide shirt.

“Simon, hi. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” she must have caught on that something was off with him, because a frown appeared between her eyebrows. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he stated dryly. “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “You wanna come in?” of course he wanted to, but it was the last thing he should do.

“That won’t be necessary,” he kept his tone all business. Rip the band-aid off. He could do that. “I think we shouldn’t see each other again,” he was avoiding looking in her eyes but focused on some spot on her chest instead, so he couldn’t see the lack of understanding in her face, but he heard it in her voice.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want to be that guy saying shit like it isn’t you, it’s me, but it’s because of nothing you did. I just,” he sighed and looked finally up. “I can’t keep seeing you. I just can’t.”

“How the fuck is that an explanation? What happened? Is the job off?” she asked incredulously. Simon just shook his head.

“No, the job’s fine. But from now on you’ll handle all business with Negan, or the others. Just not with me. I will still be there, but I can’t keep being around you. I am sorry,” he managed to say. He couldn’t really tell what exactly he saw on her face now, confusion, hurt, incomprehension, all of the above.

“But,” she stuttered. She came a little closer, but he retreated from her which made her stop, “but I thought that we… I thought we have something,” he took a long breath.

“You thought wrong,” he said coldly. He would rather have her angry at him, than heartbroken. It was enough when one of them felt that way. “There is nothing between us. It was just sex. I am doing you a favor here, kid,” he could tell that he didn’t quite manage to make her angry. He had a hard time to ignore her welling tears.

“But…,” she couldn’t go on. Simon just turned around and started to walk down the stairs. “Simon,” she called after him.

“Negan will call you,” he said over his shoulder. He could see from the corner of his eyes that she stared after him from the landing. He couldn’t really recall how he made it home, but at some point, he realized that he sat in his car parked in his usual spot behind his bar. He rubbed his face with both hands and leaned back. Simon never needed a drink that much in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions/discussion of psychotic depression and extended suicide


	12. Chapter 12

Negan shut the motor off and eyed wearily across the street over to the buzzing neon sign telling him the bar was open. The people and bikes in front of it smoking and huddling together in the September chill told him that already. He had left Simon in the company of Jack, Jim and one dashing Captain knowing that Simon, unlike Negan from time to time, knew his limits, even in the current state he was in. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t exactly something Simon did very often, but when he did he went all in. He probably wouldn’t be much use the next couple of days but he would live. Something, or rather Simon muttering it himself, though, had told Negan that the man maybe broke things off rather abrasively and Negan knew the kid well enough by now that she undoubtedly wasn’t taking it too well. So he drove by her apartment to check on her but she hadn’t been home. Negan had even made certain of it by picking the look of her front door checking her apartment. He had been relieved that he hadn’t found her face down in her own vomit pulling a full Simon by now, but otherwise, he had been ready to call it a day and let her do her bad choices all by herself. And then Simon, obviously in the state of drunken sentimentality, that usually was followed by drunken aggressiveness, so Negan was happy he had split already, had texted him that he should make sure she was fine. Of course, she ignored his calls, so he had tracked her down since the kid had learned nothing the last 10 days and had taken her phone with her. Negan was surprised sometimes how she had managed to evade getting arrested for so long.

It would be a double standard to call the bar shady, it wasn’t like their roadhouse was the pinnacle of bar culture, but it was the kind of establishment you went to do two things, get blind drunk and get in trouble. Negan had done that in exactly that order more than once. So when he entered the bar fitting right in the crowd it felt like meeting an old friend. He looked around in the rather packed guestroom and couldn’t find her at first, but then he saw her somewhere in the back, playing the newbie pool player, accompanied by four men who had a blast teaching a tipsy, pretty girl in a short skirt who from their point of view probably was rather easy and loose. Negan shook his head. She didn’t exactly look like she needed rescue, and she played more drunk than she was, Negan could see that from here, but Simon had asked him a favor. And besides, if she somehow managed to get herself hurt or worse the job would be off and then this would directly come back to him. The last thing he needed was being on everybody’s shit list. That’s why he made his way to the front and sat on the bar making sure he could keep an eye on her over some mirror while she would have to do some serious acrobatics to even get a look on him. He was greeted by an older lady with short gray hair who smiled at him.

“Hey Carol,” he said a little sheepishly. That woman was an old friend indeed, and it had been ages that he had just swung by to say hello, despite her son, who was in his class, extending that invitation all the time.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” she said.

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he said contritely and with that, the matter was already forgotten.

“What’s you poison today?” she asked him and his answer was surprisingly reserved.

“A beer, actually, whatever is on the tap,” while she went to get it he watched Jules flirting her way through How To Use A Queue 101. It involved a lot more touching than necessary. A lot more touching Negan liked. Carol put the glass in front of him.

“So,” she started. “I heard Henry made it in the team?” Negan scoffed.

“Don’t mention that blatantly obvious act of nepotism. Kid can’t throw curveballs for shit, and don’t get me started on his sliders. When we embarrass ourselves so much they start to burn fucking ragdolls of me this is his fault. At least he’s fast, gotta give him that,” Carol smiled at him. Henry was her and her husband Ezekiel’s adopted son. He first had lost his parents in a plane crash and later his older brother Benjamin in a bar fight. Not this bar, a really shady one. He hadn’t even done something, he just had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. So if the kid’s biggest dream was becoming a pitcher in a baseball team just like Benjamin had been then Negan was the Make a Wish Foundation.

“It means a lot to him,” she said.

“Oh, he will regret he ever applied. I will yell at him so much,” he took a sip from his beer. “So fucking much,” Carol just chuckled. “Where’s Zeke?”

“Getting lemons,” Negan, who had been checking on Jules, turned back to her.

“What you need fucking lemons for? Fancy sparkling water?”

“For instance,” she put her elbows on the counter and frowned at him. Negan knew what would be coming, a topic change into waters he didn’t really want to talk about.

“How’s Lucille,” Negan sighed. Usually, his reaction to this question was brushing it off. Depending on who was asking by just saying she’s fine up to go fuck yourself. Carol was one of those people he actually graced with a real, honest answer.

“It spread to her bones and kidneys. It isn’t in her liver and lymphatic system, which apparently is cause for fucking celebration and reason enough that that fucking asshole of an oncologist dared to start the whole appointment with a I have good news for you. Wanted to punch the fucker in the face,” he said in a resentful tone. Carol looked shocked.

“Oh shit,” she exclaimed. “Since when do you know?”

“Tuesday last week,” it had been the day Simon had taken him aside because he had been unnecessarily hard to Jules. “Now they wanna pump her full again with all that shit. She just got it out of her system. You know you can get cancer from chemo? It’s a fucking thing. She can’t go through this, not again. It’ll kill her,” no one told them what would happen when they pumped Lucille full of what was basically poison. Sure, they had a basic idea of falling out hair and vomiting a lot, but no one told them about the constant, agonizing pain. Everything had hurt. On her worst day, she cried from wearing clothes and couldn’t swallow even water because of a little thing called oral mucositis. On her worst days, Lucille had begged Negan to kill her. Carol shook her head in general disbelief.

“I just saw her the other day. She looked…fine,” she pulled a little face. It was not a very sensible remark, but Negan wouldn’t hold it against her.

“Yeah, she _did_ feel fine, as well. Little weak maybe, but we are talking fucking cancer, that was expected. You know what’s the worst? This time she thought she had turned it around, with the changed diet, and the supplements and all the vitamins. She even started yoga and went out more, actually participating in life again. She got in that MRI expecting to hear great news, and then that. Look who’s back, fuck you very much. And now that the head knows that the body is still dying she feels sick again. Fucking shit show,” he sounded bitter.

“I’m sorry,” Carol said, and Negan could tell she meant it.

“Yeah, me too. Thanks,” He put his chin in one hand solemnly and took another look on Jules who apparently had narrowed down who would get lucky tonight to two dudes. He sighed. Carol turned around to find out whom exactly he was staring at. Then she frowned at him.

“And you are here to,” she paused, “unwind a little?” he gave her a solemn glare. Despite the very common belief among nearly everyone who knew him Negan was not cheating on Lucille. He had her explicit permission to go and screw random strangers, under two rules, no kissing and telling, she didn’t need to know, and no feelings involved. Because Negan was taking watching his wife wither and die slowly in front of him for three years and probably for a couple of years to come very badly. And he had unhealthy coping mechanisms. Drinking wasn’t even the worst, it was the picking fights. It would have ended with him killing somebody or getting killed. At some point, Simon had basically sat on top of him to keep him in check. Sleeping around with interchangeable girls took the edge off. It cleared his head, at least for a little while. That’s why Lucille had suggested it. It had been her idea, and Negan had said no at first. And he had tuned it down significantly since Lucille had been better. Jules had been basically a slip-up. He had been at a low point that day, and there she had been, pretty and inviting, and somewhat willing, although he knew that he had blindsided her into sex. But that was nothing he was above of. He sighed and turned around. One of the assholes was feeling up Jules’s ass while telling her something in her ear and she was laughing an excessive laugh that indicated a certain state of drunkenness.

“I’m here to keep an eye on her,” he said with a little head tilt. Carol seemed surprised. “How much did she have?”

“The brunette by the pool tables?”

“Yeah,” Carol puffed a blow.

“Not much, a beer and two fingers of rye,” so she wasn’t as drunk as she led on. That somehow relieved Negan that she still had her faculties left. “Do you know her? She comes in here sometimes. Hussles pool. She’s pretty good at it,” Negan tsked. Quite the hidden talent.

“She works for us,” Carol raised an eyebrow. Like Rick, she knew that Negan didn’t make money just by being a middle school teacher and restoring vintage cars, but with more illegal operations, but unlike Rick, she had a clear idea to what extent.

“Will they going to find these poor men naked in a bathtub with their kidneys removed?” she grinned. Negan looked at her amused.

“Don’t get me ideas. No, I literally am just here to keep an eye on her, because that girl is a shit magnet.”

“I believe that unseen. She attracted you and Simon, although in Simon’s case I can see why,” Negan gave her a look.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Carol nodded in the directions of the pool table.

“If keeping an eye on her is your sole quest here, you might wanna go after her,” Negan turned around just to see Jules walking behind one of the guys to the back where the restrooms were. The second one followed. Negan emptied his beer. “Is she generally making good, healthy decisions like that?” Carol asked sweetly. Negan scoffed and got up from the barstool.

“She’s fucking working for us. The fuck you think?” he knocked on the countertop as a goodbye and ambled behind that little threesome. Obviously, the friendship of the boys had limits since one of them stood in front of the barely used women’s restroom. “Waiting your turn. What a fucking gentlemen,” Negan sheered and the guy turned around. He was younger than Negan had thought. Maybe today he had his own bunch of college boys he could beat up.

“What?” Negan stopped in front of him and made a little go-ahead gesture.

“Get lost kid,” the boy looked at him confused.

“Who the fuck are you now?” Negan grinned.

“Oh I am someone who had a really shitty day and is now looking for somebody,” Negan came closer and to the utter irritation of the kid, he put an arm around his shoulder, “whom I could make so much more miserable than me. Tell me,” he paused a little. “What’s your name?”

“Nick?”

“Tell me, Nick, you wanna be that somebody?” Negan could assess people really well and the boy wasn’t one looking for trouble. He bolted so quickly Negan was a little embarrassed for him. The restrooms in that place were famously unlockable, so he simply walked in. The scene he walked into was rather tame. The boy had her against a wall, mouthing around on her neck, fumbling with the fly of his pants. She looked incredibly bored. Their eyes met and Jules let her head fall back annoyed. 

“Aw for fuck's sake,” she groaned.

“I’m trying,” the kid said and she stared at him with an eye-roll. Then she gave him a little push.

“Back off, come on,” he did what he was told and stepped a step away from her. He must have caught Negan in the corner of his eyes because he twirled around nearly panicky. Negan had no idea what news outlets he had been watching, but judging by the fear in his eyes he clearly thought Jules had lured him in here so Negan could do all kinds of un-kosher things to him. You asked Negan he and his friends were probably nice, average boys who started college on Monday and somehow stumbled over that bar that didn’t give a shit about I.D. in a part of town were their parents locked the door when they had to drive through. 

“Don’t hurt me,” Negan rolled his eyes.

“No one here is going to hurt you. Fucking relax, Jesus. I am a little offended you even fucking think that” the kid looked irritated.

“What, who,” Negan got serious.

“On the other hand,” he sauntered closer. The boy made himself smaller. Suddenly Negan grabbed him by the sleeves of his plaid button-down. Of course, he wore a plaid button-down. “You wanna know who I am?” Negan growled. “I’m her fucking father and she is 17 years old. You little pervert like to get your hands on little girls, huh? Wanna go in for statutory rape,” Negan enjoyed the look of sheer panic in the rapidly paling face more than he liked to admit. There were actual tears.

“What? No no no. She told me she was 19, I swear. I am so sorry. Please don’t turn me in, please,” it was even a little irritating. Negan suddenly let him go.

“I’m just messing with you. Fuck off, come on,” he didn’t have to say it twice. Negan turned to Jules. “Have to say, you have class,” Jules put on a bitch face.

“That was uncalled for,” she meant the kid. “What, are you stalking me now?”

“I trekked your phone. What is what you are getting for not answering your phone or ignoring my texts like a fucking twelve-year-old,” she frowned.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, stupid move. You really wanna getaway don’t carry around a fucking GPS beacon in your purse. Come on, let’s fucking go. I take you home,” Jules scoffed.

“The fuck you will. You’re maybe missing the fact that you are not my real father? Unless not come Monday when you will be my business daddy, at best. So leave me the fuck alone,” she shrugged her jeans jacket back on her shoulders and started to walk past him.

“Where you think you’re going?”

“Back inside to find me someone to fulfill my God-given purpose spreading my legs for assholes,” Negan scoffed.

“Oh, really? Was that what you are doing? By letting some suburban virgins finger you? Where you just picking low hanging fruits? You really wanna go for the whole self-destruction to numb the pain shtick you are aiming for why not take your little skimpy top off and parade around in front of the biker gang outside the bar, hm?” she had stopped. He had hit a spot.

“Yeah? Maybe I will do that,” she snapped.

“Great. Go get yourself raped. Cause that’s how you fucking get raped,” he snapped back. For a minute or two they just glared at each other. Then suddenly Jules let her shoulders drop. She looked sad now and embarrassed. It softened Negan a little, but not very much. “You come with me now?”

“Yeah,” she just said. She followed him to his car and got in without a word. She stayed quiet the whole drive gnawing on her thump. Negan hadn’t really an interest to talk to her as well, but he knew he had to say something. So when he stopped the car, and she didn’t jump out to run upstairs immediately he seized the moment by his dick.

“Fuck do I know what Simon said to you, but it maybe came out harder than he intended,” Jules scoffed sarcastically, but wasn’t saying anything. Negan sighed. “Look at me, come on,” she reluctantly turned to him. “I know it’s hard for you to not make everything about yourself because you are fucking 20 years old and being self-centered basically comes with the territory of being a child,” she gave him a little glare. “But that Simon can’t be around you anymore has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing to do with you personally. And it maybe doesn’t feel like it right now, but in a long run, he did you a favor there. I mean I get it, I do. I know how he is with women. I honestly am fucking surprised my own wife hasn’t left me for him yet. And I am going on a fucking limp here, but being treated nice and respectfully by a guy is probably something you didn’t experience much,” Jules decided to stare out of the windows with tight lips. “But the thing is kid? He has more baggage than you can imagine and it’s even more fucked up than yours. You don’t need someone like that in your life, believe me, because when it would have crashed down, and it fucking would have, it would have taken both of you down with it and at this point I am not fucking sure that Simon would get back up,” Jules frowned at him for a second, but still wasn’t saying much. Suddenly she looked at him with a strange glimmer in her eyes.

“You wanna come in?” Negan looked at her bemused. She pulled on of her legs up and smiled at him with the tip of her tongue between her lips.

“What?”

“Don’t say you don’t wanna,” she smirked. Oh, he wanted to. He was a bastard like that, but boy he shouldn’t.

“Get out of my car, get some sleep,” he said with a tense jar already fumbling with the keys in the ignition. Jules put a hand on his thigh. He really should swat it away, but he didn’t.

“Why not?” she asked softly. Negan had approximately seven reasonable answers to this, but he couldn’t bring out one of it. Jules had moved her hand up and his penis had decided to go ahead of himself.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“Barely,” she answered and he finally turned back to her. She looked at him with those big brown eyes nearly innocently.

“Jules, I really don’t think,” he couldn’t go on because everything happened at once. She straddled his legs and crashed their lips together the second she grabbed the lever that shifted the seat and pushed it back. “Jules, I,” she stopped his objections by continuing kissing him hungrily while she fumbled open his jeans. “You need to stop this,” he managed to bring out followed by a groan when she pulled his cock out and started to pump it very slowly. Her other hand found one of his and she guided it between her leg. For some reason, she wasn’t wearing underwear and by what Negan could feel she wasn’t faking her arousal. “Aw fuck it,” he mumbled and slowly pushed two fingers inside her which made her arch her back and she let out a moan. There wasn’t much foreplay after that. She put on the condom she pulled out of one of his pockets and slowly lowered herself down on him which made them groan in unison. Then she was doing most of the work, moving her hips in fast rhythm up and down and back and forth, riding him hard and wantonly, clinging onto him with her face buried in the crook of his neck, until they both came with a cry. It took a while until she lifted her head up again. Apart from all the post-sex signs, she looked at him rather sober now. Without another word, she climbed down from him, brought her skirt in order and got out of the car.

“See you on Monday,” was what she said when she slammed the door shut. Negan stared after her, a little perplexed to be honest. He remembered that he still was one police patrol away from landing on some sex offender watch list and tucked himself away. He sighed when he slid the seat forth again and started the car. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he just had been used to get back at Simon, or in general. So this was how that felt.


	13. Chapter 13

Negan parked in front of the dormitory named after some probably long dead beneficiary and eyed the reputable building with a frown. Then he looked over to Jules who was studying the colorful welcome dossier. For a couple of seconds, Negan stared solemnly on the picture of five young people of all kinds of ethnic backgrounds cheering stupidly into the camera.

“Poor fuckers have classes on Saturday,” Jules mumbled. “Freshmen are not allowed to leave the campus after 8 pm and before 7:30 am. That’s worse than that one group home I was in,” she went on. “Aw, no alcohol? Now it’s definitely worse than the group home I was in. This will be a couple of long weeks,” Negan sighed and looked around. Jules had been rather chipper and in a good mood. He found it suspicious, and irritating. He also wondered if they should have a talk about the other night. He sure didn’t want to and he was absolutely on board with pretending it never happened, but he also was aware the Simon would strangle him with his own small intestine if he would find out. He hadn’t been worried she would go and spill the beans for their first time, but now after the second time? Who knew? She was an angry kid. The campus wasn’t exactly bristling with life. Reason being that they missed the official Freshmen move-in-day last Friday and everyone was probably busy with orientation. Seniors would arrive Wednesday or Thursday since classes started, oddly enough, on Friday. Their excuse had been the sudden death of a beloved Grandparent. Julia had been devastated, or so her mother, Arat with a heavy Midwestern accent, had told a very understanding lady in the registration office, and of course, she could come a little later, no problem. This had a couple of reasons. Firstly Gary needed more than a week to make it look like she had been enrolled all along and especially that she had paid the tuition fee, although you would be surprised how easily a guy with a polo shirt, cargo shorts, a bland name like Kevin and an important-looking clipboard with a lot of signatures and an impressive letterhead could get access to a computer with a VPN port to the main server. Second, he didn’t want to run into Claire’s parents, especially her father, by accident. Jules, no Julia and she were roomies after all. So there had been a fair chance this might happen, and the next couple of weeks he would do a lot of preparations that would take him in the proximity of Colonel Blake. If the guy had a good memory for faces Negan would have some serious explaining to do. Lastly, it was part of the play, appeal to Claire’s helper syndrome, give Julia a reason to tag along without looking clingy, since, what a coincidence, they both had basically the same curriculum. “How interested, on a scale of zero to ten, you think Claire would be to some bi-curious experimenting since, and you maybe are surprised to hear that, no opposite sexes in the dorms allowed. What is this place? Even Hogwarts is more liberal and they literally have a socially accepted derogatory slur for non-magical people,” he stared at her confused.

“What?”

“Hogwarts? Harry Potter? No? I’m just getting into the role. Julia’s quite geeky. You should know that, you wrote the bit,” she said with a grin. Then she jumped out of the car. A run of the mill, slightly beaten up Ford F150, exactly what a hard-working store owner in Nebraska would drive. If you would check the license plates you would find out that the car was registered to one Ashley Elisabeth Morgan, nee Clayton, 42, married, two kids, resident in Kearny, Nebraska, Julia’s alleged mother. The grainy picture on the license showed an image of a black-haired woman with a forgettable face that vaguely resembled Jules. Simon had cooked it up in some emulator. Wasn’t that a great new world? In the past, they just had taken random stand-in pictures from brand new wallets for things like that. Negan got out of the car, too and wandered to the back to get her trunk. She already pulled on a box containing all the small things she might need, and décor. There was a girl standing by the stairs of the main entrance waving at them. Resident assistant Fayth with a Y. They had been warned by the stern-looking, no-nonsense lady in the registration office that this one was … energetic.

“Remember you’re in mourning,” he said lowly when the girl came over. Jules gave him a look. When she turned to her beaming at them enough Negan would probably die from radiation poisoning Jules had put on a neutral face with a slightly underlying sadness. He had to give her that, the girl could act.

“You must be the Morgans,” she said with a bubblegum smile. “I am the resident assistant of this dorm and I will show you around. You can call me Fayth, if you want, with a Y,” Jules nodded thoughtfully.

“Julia, with a J, and this is my Dad, Jeffrey, with two F. In case you want to write this down,” she deadpanned. Negan had to smile, but he gave her a warning look nonetheless. They had talked about the sarcasm, and how she should tune it down, like 98 percent. There was a short moment of confusion on Fayth’s face but then she decided to move on with the program. “So would you follow me?” she gave them the tour, thoroughly, all while she babbled along happily about courses and on-campus activities interwoven with all the rules, mostly bans, of the dormitory. Jules looked disinterested, and Negan couldn’t blame her. It was boring. They currently got explained how the community showers worked, because apparently turning on showers needed explaining and Jules sighed.

“Reminds me of juvie,” she mumbled under her breath, so only Negan could hear it. He raised an eyebrow.

“Not something I would fucking advertise,” he warned her and just got an unimpressed shrug as an answer. They finally landed in a rather spacious and cleverly furnished room with loft beds that was clearly half-lived in already. They even had a small bathroom, just a sink, and a toilet, but that was more than Negan had in college. His dorm had been a closet with two bunk beds that smelled like dirty socks and cabbage for some reason. On the other hand, his college hadn’t cost 40.000 dollars per school year.

“Your roommate’s name is Claire. She is the sweetest girl. You two will get along fine. I just know it and my room is just across the hall,” she looked at both of them still beaming and rather expectantly and Negan wondered if he should tip her. “So,” she suddenly said which made both of them jump. “I am going to leave you alone now. There is a lovely café just across the plaza if you want to grab a bite. Oh,” she got a little closer to Jules. “I was close with my Grandmother, too. So if you want to talk about anything you can come to me anytime,” Jules put on the sweetest smile Negan had ever seen on her and he had to mentally force away the frown that tried to make it between his eyebrows.

“Thank you, that would be wonderful,” she said sweetly and with that she sort of complimented Fayth out of the room and closed the door. She waited a second or two to make sure the other girl was really out of earshot before she turned around.

“Wow,” was all she said and Negan scoffed.

“Yeah, right? I don’t envy you.”

“I am pretty sure she was high. I guess either Speed or military strength Adderall. You probably could make a fortune selling here,” she said and climbed up the stairs to the loft bed to give it an experimental try. Negan shook his head and leaned against a desk.

“No doubt the market is covered. Stay away from drugs, I mean it. You can smoke the one or other recreational joint, but that’s it. Stay away from alcohol as well. And I am not saying that because I care so much about our fucking health, but I can’t have you running your mouth in drunken carelessness or some shit,” he saw her hand shoot up in a mock salute. “So one more time. What’s the endgame here?” Jules leaned over the bed and looked down on him.

“Befriend Claire, get invited over Thanksgiving, put the man to sleep, get a scan of his eyes,” she recited.

“Attagirl,” he said. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it, then. Get a hang on that place, explore. And keep me fucking updated, no stunts like not answering your phone,” Jules answer was a huff. Then she swung her legs over the edge.

“You ever had sex in a dorm?” she asked out of the blue. Negan sighed.

“As a matter of fact, I fucking have,” she smacked her lips.

“Well, I haven’t. Wanna change that? I might even call you Daddy if that’s something you’re into,” she grinned. Negan just scoffed.

“That’s a hard pass, kiddo,” Jules pulled a little face.

“Since when?” Negan eyed up to her annoyed.

“Since fucking now,” he took a long breath. “Look, what happened between us better stays between us,” he said bluntly. She frowned at him before she jumped down the bed landing easily.

“Anyone specific in mind I _might_ tell about it?” she asked with a glint in her eyes he didn’t like.

“You know who I fucking mean,” he said rather softly. Jules scoffed.

“What is it to him? It isn’t like we are going steady. He made me a persona non grata in the state of assholland of which he’s president of. Like, literally,” he glared at her. “What you so afraid of? That he folds you in half? I think he could do that, by the way.”

“Jules.”

“Jesus. I’m not gonna tell him. We aren’t on speaking terms anyway, so relax your vagina. And now get the fuck outta here,” she already opened the door to show him out. He rolled his eyes.

“That`s not how you talk to your father.”

“You would be surprised how I talked to my father, and he to me. All the charming endearments he had for me and how I reminded him of my mother, that whoring, useless, drug-addicted bitch,” Negan looked at her a little sadly. Part of him wished she wouldn’t say things like that. A bigger part of him wished they weren’t true.

“That’s probably something you shouldn’t advertise either,” he deadpanned. “Alright, see you on Sunday. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, Dad,” with that he got the door shut in his face. He shook his head, wondering if he just let loose a loose cannon.

 

An hour later he walked into Simon’s bar who was having breakfast in one of the booths. He raised an eyebrow.

“You look ridiculous,” Negan had dressed the part, a real father’s outfit, grey polo shirt, cargo pants, a cardigan, and sensible tennis shoes. “What’s with the jersey? And did you shave? You look like my grandfather, just older somehow.”

“Very funny,” Negan squeezed in the booth and pulled Simon’s coffee cup to him. He was nearly surprised that it only was coffee. Simon had to be better.

“By all means, help yourself. Can I take a picture of you? For documentation?” Simon asked hopefully. Negan just flipped him off getting out of the indeed ridiculous cardigan. “How did it go?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic. Kid’s an asshole. Couldn’t be more proud.”

“Did she,” Simon paused looking away nearly embarrassed, “say something about me?” Negan stared at him blankly.

“Seriously? Do I look like a fucking cheerleader to you? You wanna go upstairs? Braid our hair? Talk about boys? And if you have to know, she called you an asshole on multiple occasions. Now get over it, would you?” Simon sighed.

“Fine,” he studied Negan for a while. “How are you?” Negan looked up bemused.

“What?”

“How are you? How are you feeling? What’s up with Negan? I was so preoccupied with my own shit the past weeks I never ask. You and Lucille come to a decision regarding the cancer thing?” Negan palmed his face and leaned back.

“She won’t do it, the chemo. She actually thinks about breaking up treatment completely, but I convinced her to try one last thing. It’s some experimental medicine bullshit, I don’t know. Like a super local chemo, just targets the cancer cells. We would need to go to London for that, at least 3 months, better six. Yeah, I kind of rely on that score so I am a little stressed out about it. Otherwise, I am preachy. And I am pissed I have to sell the car. I thought this time I get to fucking keep her,” in order to avoid raising unnecessary suspicion how a middle school teacher could pull five to six-figure hospital bills in cash Negan was restoring and selling those cars officially for way more money than his clients actually paid. Nobody in the scene would rat him out about it.

“Maybe I buy it and let you drive around in it,” Simon grinned. Then he sighed. “When something goes South with the gig and we have to call it off I can always give you money, you know that, right?”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Negan mumbled. Simon meant it, and if push came to shove Negan would take the offer. They sat next to each other awkwardly until Negan shook it off. “So the Belle Haven gig is Thursday?”

“Yupp, you need to dry clean one of your suits. The dark grey Marc Jacobs, the fitted one,” Simon said. “You need to look expensive, so the black Budapesters and you get one of my watches. Thought about the Patek Philippe. Nothing says rich business buffoon more than that thing,” Negan stared at him. “And you maybe wanna buy a tie. I recommend some color? Light pastel tone, silk, 2 and a half inches,” Negan wasn’t reacting at first.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You _did_ turn into a woman,” Simon scoffed.

“Oh shut up. I just know how to dress to impress. It’s a gift,” Negan shook his head and slid closer.

“Nope, come on. Off with that pants, I wanna fucking check,” he grabbed for Simon’s belt buckle.

“Get off me you asshole,” he chuckled and tried to swat him away. Their little homoerotic interlude got interrupted by Arat.

“Are you girls having fun?” she said sharply. Negan sighed solemnly.

“It is absolutely what it fucking looks like. Sorry, you had to find out that way. But we’ll always have Vegas,” Arat gave him a long, impatient glare. Not that either of them remembered what exactly happened in Vegas.

“We have a problem,” she deadpanned.

“Which is?”

“There is some asshole looking for Jules.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters will be criming and actual heisting. About time you ask me :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out longish. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS in the end notes

“Well, at least we can agree on that he isn’t some sort of pig,” Negan mumbled scrutinizing the barely alive car. Then he turned to Arat. “You sure?” she shrugged.

“He was at her apartment yesterday, the same car and followed us to the burger shop and back here. Then he must have gotten suspicious that I saw him because he drove off. Came here on a whim and now he’s back,” she made a head jerk towards the battered truck roughly 100 yards down the street.

“He didn’t follow us to the school this morning. I would remember that piece of shit car. Besides, if he knew where she is he wouldn’t hang around her fucking place. Shit,” Negan said. They watched Simon crossing the street casually carrying three coffees. He got in the car.

“Ontarian plates. Asshole’s after Jules alright. Youngish, maybe in his early twenties, looks like a fucking meth head, and like he lives in that car. No self-respect the young people of today. Did Jules notice him?” Arat shook her head.

“Don’t think so. And I didn’t want to bring it to her attention,” Simon sighed.

“That’s probably a good thing. She’s safe at school. Whoever it is, a prestige college probably ain’t the place he would even expect her to be. Ever. So what now?” he asked Negan who rubbed his already re-growing stubble.

“Hijack the car, knock him out and steal it? Go from there?” Simon stared at Negan solemnly.

“Like the professionals we are?”

“Fucking fine. Let’s do this right. I call Wade and Gary. You stay here and keep an eye on the fucker. We meet at the warehouse when the deed is done,” with that Negan got out of the car already pulling out his phone. He grinned at Simon through the open window. “Man, I missed saying that, but to the kidnapping van,” he sniggered and Simon rolled his eyes.

Roughly half an hour later a confused Uber driver let Negan out on a seemingly random street corner where he stood around for another ten minutes before Gary stopped a rather inconspicuous van next to him advertising for a dog and cat groomer since Simon had humor like that. 

“Who are we kidnapping?” Gary asked casually. Negan sighed.

“You sometimes think it shouldn’t feel so normal asking things like that?” he asked while he equally casually grabbed the balaclava Wade handed him, also casually. “I mean you two didn’t even hesitate a split second when I called you. Shouldn’t you be asking why or at least say what the fuck?” Gary shrugged.

“What? I like kidnapping people. I miss it. Always was easy money. Not that bloated, convoluted bullshit we are doing now,” he said. Wade leaned forward a little.

“Simpler times. Remember that Wall Street jerk’s mother? Most fun she had in years. We should kidnap her again sometime,” Negan scoffed.

“Since you two enjoy it so fucking much I have good news. This time we’re snatching someone just for the fun of it.”

“Great, and who is that lucky dude?”

“Someone stalking Jules,” Negan was waiting for a reaction. After 30 seconds he eyed Gary up and down. “I am surprised by the lacks of I fucking told you so’s,” he deadpanned. Gary looked at him solemnly.

“When I can assess how big of a problem this is I maybe hire a skywriter and a barbershop quartet. Come on let’s go.”

A while later they stood in a side alley waiting for a window for the seizure. Simon loitered nearby, seemingly on his phone, ready to take the car after they relocated its owner into the back of theirs. The whole thing took not even 20 seconds. Gary brought the car to a stop next to the truck and Negan jumped out from the passenger side while Wade jumped out of the back. The kid had the window open, making it easy for Negan to simply grab the back of his head. He smashed him face-first into the steering wheel. He managed to press out a nasal “What the fuck” afterward.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here let me help you,” with that Negan pulled the door open and the scrawny scarecrow of a man out. He pushed him into Wade who put a bag over his head and shoved him in the back of the van. They were already driving again when Negan threw the door shut. Wade had him pinned down on the floor currently encouraging him to keep still. The kind of encouragement where you pressed your knee in someone’s backbone. He was writhing like a fish, complaining a lot.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you? Let me go,” Negan tsked.

“You’re the slippery type, huh?  I have something for that. Don’t worry, just a little pinch,” he jabbed the needle in the guy’s neck. It didn’t take long until he stopped moving altogether.

“That was fast,” Wade mumbled and actually took his pulse. “Good news, we didn’t just murder a guy.”

“Not yet,” Negan mumbled while he put on some leather gloves. No way he would go into that pockets without protection. Might get hepatitis. The short frisking brought out a wad of cash, mostly dollar bills, a pipe and judging by its crystalline state some meth, and a battered driver license identifying the guy as one Alden Mitchell, from Dayton, Ohio. The car stopped and someone ripped the door open. It was Arat.

“All good?”

“Never better,” Negan said and jumped out of the van just to saunter over where Simon had parked the car currently rummaging around in the glove compartment with a disgusted face. The driver cabin was a mess of burger wrappings, half-drunken cans, and general clatter. It didn’t smell especially good either. So Negan could understand Simon’s expression. He produced a phone and a small handgun. By the looks of it especially the handgun wasn’t making him happy.

“It’s like the whole place here is bad touching me,” he tabbed the home button. “Look at that, unlocked,” Simon scoffed. So this carelessness regarding phones was obviously a generation thing. He browsed through the guy’s phone for a while with a scowl on his face. “There is nothing suspi-,” he stopped. “My my,” with that he held the phone towards Negan. Negan frowned on it before he took it. It was official, the girl was an idiot. It was the kind of App with the good intent to keep track of your loved ones, especially your kids, but the nasty side effect that you basically could level up to creepy stalker. She was the only contact and she had been offline 995 days until two days ago.

“She must have kept a phone from her old days. Probably got sentimental after you broke it off, checked some old contacts and here we go, notification, coordinates and all,” Negan mumbled. “Fucking fuck, Arat,” she turned around from where she helped Wade to secure Alden on a chair. Then she came over.

“What,” Negan held the phone towards her and she came to the same conclusion as him. “Aw for fuck’s sake. You want me to get that phone?”

“Yes, please. Check her fucking apartment first. Let’s hope she wasn’t stupid enough to take it to school. Although she probably was,” he sighed and kept browsing through some unsuspicious messenger chats and E-Mails. “Good news is according to that no one knows he’s even fucking here,” he muttered. “Doesn’t seem to have many friends in general. I like this one, from a guy named T, get me my fucking money or I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out and shove a turd down the hole. Colorful, lacks flow but shows intent and to the point,” Simon scoffed.

“Well, it maybe feels otherwise sometimes, but dealers ain’t your friends. So whom do we have here?” they ambled over and stopped next to Wade who pulled the bag off of Alden. He still was unconscious. After several minutes of frowning and scrutinizing with occasional comparing the sunken in face with the picture in the I.D. Simon sighed.

“And that’s why we don’t want you to dabble with the methamphetamines, Wade.”

“Yeah, that’s like one of those meth PSA before after pictures. But don’t you worry, it’s strictly pott these days,” Wade grinned and after a break, “and LSD, if I feel retro,” Negan just chuckled. He kept screening the phone and had now landed on the photos. It seemed like Jules knew the guy quite well, in a biblical sense. It was hard to tell how old the pictures were, but at least around three years, he supposed. Alden looked significantly better and now when he thought about it looking at Jules in rather lascivious poses like that he was probably committing a crime here. He stopped eventually, fumbled out the sim card and broke it in half. Then he threw the phone at Gary who caught it just barely because he was busy dragging a hose after him.

“So what do we got?” Gary shrugged.

“Nothing, kid’s clean,” he gave him a scrutinizing glance, “legally speaking. Not even a speeding ticket. Made me wonder what he is doing hanging out in what I always assume is basically bear infested tundra with some silos,” Simon rolled his eyes in faked annoyance, “in the first place and turns out he has a permanent residency due to a really good lab job he recently lost. I wonder why. Residency is pending and he didn’t show up to some appointments,” Gary tsked. “Poor kid, that close to being deported, to Ohio,” no one was even second-guessing anymore how Gary could pull off a half-decent background check in under 15 minutes, but here they were. “I could see if I find more dirt on him, or we just ask him ourselves.”

“Go ahead, wake the creep up,” Negan said. To be honest Alden needed that shower. He sputtered to live before he dissolved into a coughing fit that ended with him staring stupidly at his left wrist which, like the other one was tied to the armrests of the chair with duct tape. Then he looked up. He needed a moment to process but then he seemed to realize that he sat right in front of four very serious gentlemen who stared down on him, one with a handgun, because fear crawled on his face.

“Howdy,” Negan greeted in a friendly tone. It was enough to give Alden a full-fledged panic attack. He hysterically dragged on the duct tape, babbling pleas to not kill him, fell to the side with his chair because of all the struggling, until he hyperventilated and probably wondered not 5 minutes later how this ended with him breathing into a paper bag while Wade was nearly gently calming him down. Wade pulled him back up, gave him an encouraging smile and patted on his shoulder.

“I take it this is your first kidnapping? Have to say, compared to your predecessors you are not doing great,” Simon deadpanned.

“Kidnapping? Why would you kidnap me? Who are you?” Negan sighed.

“A lot of questions I am happy to answer in time. But me first,” he sauntered a little closer. “Any particular reason why you stalk little girls?” Alden looked confused. He moved his lips like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. “Lurking in front of her apartment, probably spying into her bedroom jerking off, huh?” Negan continued, still in a calm, neutral tone. “Is this your thing, Alden, hm?”

“How do you know my name?” Negan tsked. Panic and fear brought all the priorities in disarray. He made a head tilt towards Gary.

“He’s clairvoyant.”

“I also do palm readings,” he chimed in. Alden looked back and forth between them irritated.

“Really?” now Negan shared an eye-roll with Simon. He slapped him over the head. It was just a scolding, not a hard slap, but he flinched terribly nonetheless.

“From your I.D., idiot. Now answer my fucking question or my friend over there will put that gun to good use. I might even let you decide which of your patellas he blows out first, hm?”

“I,” Alden began hesitantly. “I did not.”

“Did not what? Stalk? Lurk? Jerk off? I’ve seen your car buddy. Want to make me break out the fucking black light?” Negan sniggered. “Okay, maybe I am asking the wrong questions. So straight to the point. How do you know Jules and what do you want from her?” Now the boy frowned confused.

“That isn’t her name,” he said. Negan shared a quick look with Simon. “Her name’s Jackie. And I wasn’t stalking her. I just wanted to see if she’s alright,” Negan scratched the back of his nose with a thoughtful frown.

“You literally camped in front of her apartment and followed her around town. Son, this is the fucking definition of stalking. Jackie then, how do you know Jackie, do tell,” he encouraged him.

“I’m her boyfriend,” the silence that followed that statement dragged out a very long time until Simon spoke up.

“Does she know that?”

“What? Yes, of course. We dated for over a year. I mean okay, I guess she _was_ my girlfriend. But then that dude killed her mom and she had to run away from the police because they thought she did it and she was too scared to tell them the truth and they would have killed her for stealing from them in the first place and because tying up loose ends and shit, so she had to run. I wanted to come with her, but she never showed and I kept tabs on her phone. Wasn’t really expecting to ever hear from her again but then the notification pops up and I thought I just check on her. I swear that was all I was doing. I would never hurt her or anything,” these words left his mouth in a fast outburst. Simon managed to interrupt him

“Wait wait wait, slow down. What dude? Who killed her mother? What?” Simon asked irritated.

“That rich business guy, Spencer Monroe. He and his brothers are investors or something like that. Help Start-Ups, big shots in Toronto. You know how these kind of people are. When they want to party, they _really_ wanna party. Jackie sometimes hooked them up with drugs. At one of those parties, she managed to get into a safe, stole some money, but also some personal shit. A watch and I think a fountain pen. Belonged to their late mother so Spencer gets angry and goes to her house, threatened the shit out of her. Her mother is there too, high, and when he grabs her she just flips and attacks him, so he pulls a gun and shoots her right in the face,” Alden continued, practically bubbling. His auditorium was too stunned to interrupt him. “He was as shocked as she was, and I really thought he would kill her, too, but then he just threatened her and took off. I wanted to tell the police, she made me swear I wouldn’t. She was really scared, practically threw me out before the cops showed up. Later she wanted to meet up, but never showed and then I knew that she was gone,” he stopped with a rather guilty look on his face.

“Does that mean you actually had been there and just watched her getting threatened by some douchebag? You are grade A boyfriend material,” Gary of all people said. Simon scoffed humorlessly. His jaw was tense, his lips were just a fine line now. Negan knew what he was thinking. The kid got it all wrong.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Negan said in a business-like tone. “Would you excuse me and my associates for a second,” with that Negan stepped a couple of steps back out of earshot and turned around taking the others with him. He sighed and eyed Simon up and down. “Simon, you maybe wanna get some fresh air,” it took a second before the other man reacted, but then he looked up with sad eyes. Without a word he nodded, let one hand ran through his hair and walked away. It was a good thing he did. He still was way too attached and sometimes it was better to not hear it out loud. When he was gone Negan tsked. “No way in hell that girl was just pushing drugs,” he shook his head.

“Yeah,” Gary said solemnly. “She was way deeper in than we all thought. Probably not for long, that’s why it didn’t show in her record,” he looked over to Alden. “I kinda pity the kid.”

“You know what they say, the way to rock bottom is paved with pretty girls with fake names that get you into drugs,” Negan joked.

“Maybe they _were_ dating. Keeping it up for a year is some serious commitment,” Wade said with a shrug. They all turned to Alden.

“Yo kid,” Gary called over. “What kind of lab were you working in? The kind that has stocked up on, let’s say, anhydrous ammonia, red phosphorous or sulfuric acid, and has some very lax security in place?” Alden was basically oozing guilt. They turned around again. “I bet my left nutsack he was targeted for that shit,” Gary shook his head. “Jesus, she didn’t just ruin some very prosperous business relation with her stunt, she probably cut off a valuable supplier or at least made it significantly harder to control him. No wonder she bolted. Honestly, I am even a little impressed, and she can be happy she got away and ran into us,” he sighed. “You wanna do the honor to break it to the kid or shall I?” he asked Negan who wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to teach valuable life lessons. He sauntered over to Alden who was still scared out of his wits and crouched down.

“I haven’t introduced myself properly, neither of us has. I am Negan, these fine gentlemen are Wade and Gary and the big guy with the beautiful mustache who had to take a bathroom break is Simon. You asked who we are. We are criminals, thieves, bank robbers, fencers of unsolicited acquired goods, occasional kidnappers and on one memorable occasion accidental human traffickers. You know what that makes us?”

“No?” Alden said after a break.

“Bad people, and in my experience all criminals are bad fucking people. Some maybe have good motives, some a forced by someone else, some just lost altogether and basically don’t have another chance than to go down that fucking road, but you know what we all have in common? The fucking disregard, and ignorance and I don’t give a single fuck attitude towards the poor bastard sitting on the receiving end of our crimes.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alden basically cried. He probably thought Negan was about to kill him. Considering what Negan was about to tell him he might as well.

“The girl you dated for a year? Jackie? How did you meet her, huh? Did she just chatted you up on a party, sat next to you in your lunch break, or ran into you in the supermarket like a fucking rom-com bullshit meet-cute?” by the looks on Alden’s face one of the three options was correct. “And of course you fell for her because you were probably new in town, no friends, maybe a little socially awkward, also Canada, and there she was, pretty, smart, interested in you. How am I doing so far?” Alden looked rather haunted now. There probably was enough of the smart kid with the good lab job left to already get what Negan was driving at. “You had nothing against the one or other joint, am I right? You probably were familiar with the concept, you went to college after all, but then she took you to some of her friends. Little sketchy, a little scary, but friendly, and oh the fucking peer pressure. Some pills here, maybe a line of coke there, nothing too extreme, you could handle it, but then one day you had a fucking pipe in your hand. It wasn’t meth right away, what was it, hm?”

“Heroin,” Alden said in a meek tone not quite holding eye contact.

“It never felt like the first time, didn’t it? Before you fucking knew it, you were getting high regularly and suddenly you owed some scary as shit motherfucker some money that you didn’t have, but don’t you worry, you can make it up to him by getting him some of the chemicals you can easily provide that his operation needs to cook up some Breaking Bad worthy meth. You probably thought it was a one-time deal. You maybe even tried to get out after the first time, but then there was Jul-, Jackie who coerced you right back in, with drugs, with sex,” the kid had tears in his eyes now. “You really loved her, didn’t you? Sure she sold drugs, but she just had to make a living, right? You probably had some weird pipedream of getting her out of the life while slowly spinning shit deep down into it yourself,” Negan sighed. He actually felt pity for Alden. “Come on, look me in the eyes, because I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Alden did. “Jackie ain’t real. Jackie isn’t even her real name. She used you by order of her boss slash pimp slash drug dealer, she turned you a junkie on fucking purpose, and she didn’t care, because she ain’t a good person. She’s a fucking criminal and you shouldn’t have run after her. She isn’t worth it. But it was also very stupid. For you, and for her, and you fucking wanna know why?” at this point, Alden just shrugged, half-broken. “Because Shark Tank isn’t the one she was running from,” Alden’s eyes flicked back and forth confused. “I mean Spencer what’s his name. These kinds of people aren’t afraid of some low life dealer kid. He didn’t need to kill her to crush her if push comes to shove. He has legal ways to do it. No. It was her boss she was running from. The same boss you probably still buying from. The same boss who lost a cash cow because of her. Yeah, I know how these kinds of people like to party, and it ain’t cheap, and they don’t care if you charge them extra now and again. The same boss who probably _is_ the type to tie loose ends. And maybe, only maybe, you just pointed him in her direction,” Alden looked up.

“What?” Negan nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t mean, to, I mean, I did not,” he put a finger on Alden’s cracked lips and shushed him.

“You said enough, son,” with that Negan got up and shared a long, rather dour look with Gary.

“What you wanna do with him?”

“Well, he did see our faces and I recall distinctively that I told him all our names. So,” he trailed off. Gary rolled his eyes. They wouldn’t kill the kid. Negan was just unnecessarily cruel here. But they couldn’t just let him go either, at least not until the job was done and Jules was sent on her merry way. “See if you can get some names out of him. I need to have a little chat with Simon,” he said already walking out. Simon sat on a crate, indulging in old bad habits. Negan sat next to him. Without a word, Simon offered him one of his cigarettes. He waited for Negan to take the first long drag before he started talking.

“How bad is it?” Negan coughed a little. He hadn’t had a smoke in two years, and sneaking the one or other drag from one of Lucille’s medicinal joints wasn’t counting.

“Expect an “I fucking told you so” cake from Gary in the near future,” Simon huffed. “Probably not so bad. We hid her away good and by all means, how powerful can a drug kingpin in a town like Hamilton be, huh? When Gary gets some names out of the kid we’ll know more. In the meantime, we go about business as usual. For all the outside world cares we don’t know her and never even fucking met her. So we should be in the clear.”

“Should be,” Simon repeated and shook his head than he took a long breath. “God, her life is way more messed up than we thought,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, but she got out.”

“And we dragged her right back in,” Negan sighed.

“What we want from her is fucking different. We ain’t forcing her to whore herself out and go around ruining some poor fuckers life,” Simon looked at Negan with a raised eyebrow.

“Really? We are close enough to qualify.”

“Come on Simon, stop the fucking pity party,” Simon rolled his eyes to that.

“Alright, it’s just. I don’t know, I wish we could help her instead of messing her up even more, because I have the feeling this is exactly what we are doing,” Simon sounded exasperated.

“We _do_ help her. And if she doesn’t blow her chance up she gets out of it ready to face the first day of her new fucking life. All things considered, we are the good guys here,” they sat next to each other for a couple of minutes neither of them talking. Finally, Simon spoke up.

“What we gonna do with Alden?”

“Hole him up somewhere until everything is over.”

“Like where?”

“The farm?” Simon scoffed.

“Kid’s dead in a week, either killed by Merle on a whim or OD-ing,” Negan couldn’t really argue with that. Probably a bad idea to drop a meth junkie in one of Virginia’s most prolific meth labs. Negan contemplated for a while.

“Morgan then,” Simon stared at him.

“This nutjob will cost us. We might actually lose money on that job.”

“Let’s just take it out of Jules’ cut. Call it cleansing her karma on her behalf. He and Eastman can lock him up in that cell, clean him up, philosophize the addiction out of him till he fucking longs for the sweet relief of death,” Simon actually had to chuckle on that.

“Alright but you take him. I can’t stand this anointed tone he always sports,” Negan agreed with a shrug, then he turned to Simon.

“What you gonna do?” Simon frowned.

“Maybe paying the farm a visit nonetheless,” he said somberly. “Inform Dwight and the gang that maybe some competition will roll into town.”

“That’s smart,” Negan huffed. “Fucker has eyes all over. But you think he will keep us informed? He is not my biggest fan, not since I,” Negan stopped and made a vague hand gesture. Simon grinned

“Mutilated him?”

“It was self-defense,” Negan had slept with Sherry, Dwight’s wife. You asked Negan this clearly was a problem between those two lovebirds, and he had just been a mean to an end, so coming at him with a shotgun had been uncalled for. And maybe he shouldn’t have come at Negan with a shotgun while he had manned a grill. This had been an interesting 4th of July. He still wasn’t sure how Simon had managed to talk Dwight and the Dixons out of waging a full-fledged gang war on them.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. You’ll handle Alden,” he snapped the bud of his cigarette away and jumped from the crate. Negan stared after him wearily.

“God, I can’t believe it’s just fucking Monday,” he mumbled and walked back inside the warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of (hard) drug abuse, addiction, and prostitution


End file.
